Loud and Clear
by stardust923
Summary: "Rachel, listen to me. I have said it before, and I will keep saying it until you believe me. I know I can't speak for everyone else, but I really do mean it when I say this: I. Am. Your. Friend." Eventual Mike/Rachel, with Mike/Matt/Puck/Rachel friendship.
1. Chapter 1

_**Standard disclaimer: **I own nothing. If I did, Mike Chang would speak and Noah Puckerman would never wear a shirt._

* * *

Puck and Matt were playing Halo in the Chang living room, and Mike was on the phone with his parents who were out of town, when the doorbell rang. Figuring it was the pizza they had ordered half an hour ago, Matt tossed his controller onto the carpet and went to get the door. Puck heard Matt greet someone in a tone of surprise, and the responding voice was distinctly feminine. When Matt walked back into the room with Rachel Berry in tow, Puck almost spit out his sip of soda.

_What the hell is Rachel Berry doing here?_ Not that he minded, really, the two of them had learned to (more or less) peacefully coexist over the past few months. She was one of the few people in the school who didn't act like he was the scum of the earth after Babygate erupted, after all.

"Hello, Noah," she said softly, shifting her weight from one foot to the other. She was wearing some tight, stretchy black shorts and a plain, pink t-shirt, and her hair was pulled back into a low bun.

"Berry," he managed to grunt as he found himself staring at her lean, tanned dancer's legs. _Holy shit. How does someone that short have legs that long? _He shook his head, and she looked away, clearly uncomfortable.

"Rach!" exclaimed Mike, walking into the room as Puck was about to ask the glee club drama queen what she was doing at Chang's house. Puck narrowed his eyes at the lanky Asian as he pulled the tiny brunette into a quick embrace. He couldn't help but notice the small but genuine smile that crossed the girl's face as they hugged. _The fuck is that about? And since when does he call Berry 'Rach'?_

"I ran into Rach at the dance studio earlier today," explained Mike, paying no attention to Puck and Matt rolling their eyes at each other. He had long since learned to ignore their jokes about him taking dance classes. He really had fun at the hip hop and contemporary classes he took, and he knew his friends understood and respected that, despite the teasing. "Her dads are out of town and she didn't have plans for tonight, so I said she could come over if she wanted to."

"I didn't know I would be interrupting a gathering of your friends, Michael," chastised Rachel. "Really, I don't want to impose on you."

"Chill, Rach. You're one of my friends too. And how many times do I have to tell you to call me Mike?"

Puck's eyebrows shot up at that. _Berry and Chang are friends? When did that happen?_ He glanced across the room at Matt when the other football player spoke up. "No worries, we were just planning to watch a movie tonight."

Rachel's lips curved upwards in another smile. "Thanks Matt. I still wish I had known you guys would be here though. I would have changed my clothes after my dance class." Her cheeks turned pink as she bit her lip.

Puck scowled as his mind worried at the implications of that statement. _She would have changed if she had known we were here… but doesn't care if Mike sees her like this? In _those_ shorts? The fuck?_ He relaxed marginally when Mike laughed at her. "I don't think anyone cares that you're in your dance clothes. But I can get you some sweats or something if you want."

"That would be lovely, Michael. I mean, Mike," she amended when he poked her in the arm. He left the room, heading in the direction of the stairs up to the bedrooms. Rachel wandered into the living room and sat on the couch, drawing her legs up onto the seat and tucking her feet behind her. Her expression brightened noticeably when she saw the TV, screen set in the Halo multiplayer lobby.

"Halo?" she questioned, looking up at Puck, then over at Matt.

"Um, yeah. You wanna play?" responded Matt. Puck rolled his eyes. _Dude, it's Rachel fuckin' Berry. Of course she doesn't— _

"Sure! I should warn you I'm not very good on all the maps yet, in fact I am barely proficient on some of them, but I'll play any of them you like." Puck gaped at her, and she looked back at him unabashedly, eyes twinkling in amusement.

"You actually play Halo? That's _awesome_," enthused Matt, grinning at the petite girl.

"Seriously," agreed Puck, hardly able to believe it himself. "Who are you and what have you done with Rachel Berry?"

She laughed as she got up to retrieve a third controller from next to the console. "I know this will in all likelihood come as a shock to the two of you, but I actually own a 360, although I never really used it until a few weeks ago. It was a gift from my daddy a couple years ago."

Puck's jaw dropped. "Your father got you a 360 as a gift? Has he _met_ you?"

Rachel chuckled at that as she settled back onto the couch. "Daddy felt that I might enjoy a form of entertainment common for other teenagers. I never had the heart to tell him that I simply wasn't interested in it; in point of fact, I never played any games on it until Michael got me Halo and made me learn how to play that. He insisted that it was a crime to have an Xbox and not own this game."

"Damn straight," said Mike as he walked back into the room holding a pair of sweatpants. He shook his head as he tossed the pants at Rachel, who caught them and retreated to the bathroom to change into them.

"Berry playing Halo," muttered Puck incredulously as he stared at Mike. _He bought her an Xbox game. What alternate universe _is_ this, anyway?_

"So, you and Rachel?" grinned Matt, looking at the tall Asian.

Mike rolled his eyes. "Get your minds out of the gutter, guys. We're just friends. We take classes at the same dance studio and have been hanging out a little since we ran into each other there a few weeks ago."

"Uh huh," snorted Puck._ Just friends. Right. No guy is ever 'just friends' with a hot chick who wears skirts as short as she does. _

His inner dialogue was cut short when Rachel reentered the room with Mike's sweatpants, obviously too big for her, slung sinfully low on her hips even with the drawstrings pulled as tight as they would go, revealing a sliver of her perfectly flat stomach. "Thank you for the pants, Mike," she said, flashing him a sunny smile. "So, Halo?"

"You agreed to play?" Mike asked.

"Yes, I did. You do have four controllers, so we can all play?"

Mike laughed. "Yeah, I do. As long as we don't play on Construct again," he said cryptically.

Matt and Puck looked on in astonishment as Rachel made a face and actually _stuck her tongue_ out at Mike. Puck shook his head. _Only Rachel Berry_.

They all settled on the large sectional sofa in front of the TV, taking a few minutes to select a map before actually starting the multiplayer game. Ten minutes later, Matt and Puck were gawking at Rachel in shock, while Mike simply laughed at his football teammates. For the first few minutes they had taken it easy, but upped their game as it quickly became apparent that Rachel actually played well, and she ended up beating all three boys handily.

"Did I forget to mention that it turns out Rach is as competitive and as much of a perfectionist with video games as she is with Glee?" said Mike, smugly. "It's why I won't play on Construct with her anymore, I don't even have a _chance_ against her on that map."

"_Dude_. Rachel. You just _kicked all our asses_. At _Halo_," breathed Matt in awe.

"Seriously Berry. That has to make you one of the coolest chicks ever," agreed Puck, staring at his ex-girlfriend in fascination. Yeah, so they only dated for a week, and he only asked her out because she's a Jew. She had still been _his_. Shut the fuck up. _Seriously, who are you, what have you done with Rachel Berry, and where the fuck have you been all my life? _

Rachel laughed at all of them. "As I mentioned before, I am barely proficient on some of the maps. I seem to consistently perform at an adequate level on the map we just used, but as Mike indicated I am much better on other maps."

"Adequate, she says," muttered Puck, rolling his eyes to Matt.

The doorbell rang again, and Mike jumped up. "Must be the pizza this time, I'll get it!"

Rachel stood as well. "I'll go get plates and napkins. Noah, could you assist me please?" He stared at her as if she had sprouted a second head—_plates? for pizza?_—but followed her into the kitchen.

"So, Berry," he said conversationally. "You playing Halo? Not even gonna try to cover it up, that's pretty hot shit."

To his surprise, instead of launching into one of her tirades, she simply beamed at him. "I admit I was surprised to discover that I enjoy the game as much as I do. But it has been quite pleasant having Mike teach me to play."

He paused for a beat, frowning at that revelation as he watched her unerringly bustle around the kitchen, quickly getting four plates from a cupboard and a pile of napkins from a drawer. _The fuck? How does she know her way around Chang's kitchen?_ He resolutely ignored the sudden lurch in his stomach at that thought, and carried the stack of plates and napkins out to the living room while she grabbed some more sodas out of the fridge.

"So," said Rachel as she opened a can of Sprite. "What movie are we watching?"

"Dunno yet, still trying to decide," replied Matt. "We can get The Ring from On Demand, or there's a Star Wars marathon, or we can watch one of Mike's DVDs."

"What's The Ring?" asked Rachel, pulling a slice of pizza onto her plate before settling back onto the couch.

"It's a horror and suspense movie."

"Oh. That explains why I haven't heard of it, I've never seen a horror film."

Puck stared at her in incredulity, and Mike piped up, "Seriously?"

"I am perfectly serious. Dad and Daddy don't enjoy that genre, and I don't think I would enjoy watching one by myself."

"Oh, then we _definitely_ have to watch The Ring! Everyone has to see a horror flick at least once in their life. It's like, a rite of passage or something," Mike said as Rachel took a bite of pizza.

Rachel looked at the three boys doubtfully. "I don't know. . . maybe we can just watch one of Mike's DVDs?"

"Don't tell me you're _afraid_, Berry," said Puck, who started laughing when she frowned at him. "You _are_, aren't you? Oh, this is priceless," he crowed.

"I believe it is perfectly reasonable to be anxious at the thought of watching a film that is _intended_ to make people feel fear, Noah," she huffed.

"Of course it is, Rach," reassured Mike, glaring at Puck. "But getting scared is the fun part of horror movies. That's the whole point."

"Oh, _fine_. I fully expect this to be vastly inferior to the musicals that are my preferred genre of film, but I will watch this. If only to be able to say that I have seen at least one horror film," she said. "But I _will_ make you—_all_ of you—regret it if I am traumatized by the experience," she glowered at them.

The boys had to laugh at that, but it didn't stop Matt from grabbing the remote and setting up the movie on the screen. Rachel simply sighed and finished her slice of pizza as Matt started the movie and Puck turned the lights off.

Fifteen minutes later, Rachel shrieked at a scene in the movie, practically jumping off the couch. Matt and Puck outright laughed at her, but Mike just chuckled and held his arm out to her. "C'mere Rach."

She turned an affronted look to all of them, but relented when she saw Mike shaking his head at her in amusement. Puck watched as the corners of her mouth turned up a little as she slid down the couch, curling her legs under her and settling into a comfortable position as Mike dropped his hand onto her shoulder and pulled her just a little closer to his side. _Just friends my ass_, he thought in sudden anger. _Whatever. _It's not like he was jealous or anything. Not of Chang being close to _Rachel Berry_.

Puck glanced over the next time Rachel let out a yelp. Mike snickered a little, but lowered his head and whispered something in her ear that caused her to smile up at him, laughing softly. He grinned at that and pressed a quick kiss to her hair before returning his attention to the screen. By the end of the movie, Rachel was burying her head into Mike's shoulder for the scary parts, but still looking up and squeaking. At some point during the film she had pulled her hair out of its bun, letting it tumble around her shoulders, and Mike had his hand tangled in the chestnut waves.

Puck, on the other hand, was scowling. _This is crazy. Does he not know how batshit insane she is? Not even normal batshit insane, but, like, the special, _Berry_ version of it. _Okay, so he felt a little bad for thinking that. He did know that she wasn't really crazy, just driven and intelligent, which in a town like Lima was apt to make you an outsider. Whatever.

When the credits started rolling, Matt reached over to a lamp to turn it on. Rachel was staring wide-eyed at the screen, still secure under Mike's arm, but then she got to her feet and glared at them all. "I _cannot_ _believe_ you made me watch that! I am probably going to have nightmares about this stupid movie for a week!"

Puck guffawed at the sight of the petite brunette standing there indignantly. He couldn't help it. This only caused her to stomp her foot—no, really, she _actually_ stomped her foot—and set her hands on her hips. This made him laugh even harder. _This chick is ridiculous. _"Weren't you the one who was saying horror movies are _supposed_ to scare you?" he managed to choke out.

"Well. . . yes, but I had no idea it would be like _that_," she grumbled.

"I thought that was a kickass movie," said Matt, grinning at them. "Sorry Rachel, but really. That was great."

She softened a little, then flopped back onto the couch next to Mike. "Fine," she sighed. "I concede that it was a good movie. In my opinion, it certainly attained its objective of frightening its audience."

Matt laughed at her. "You certainly did your share of squealing at the scary parts."

She blushed. "Yes, well, I maintain that it was a natural reaction. Now, can we _please_ do something to take my mind off of the movie? Not _that_, Noah," she said in exasperation, seeing a familiar expression cross his face.

"Hey, you left the door wide open for that one!" he protested. _Damn. There were so many places I could have gone with that, too_.

"More Halo?" offered Mike, smiling at her.

"Perfect," she said.

"Only if you warn us which maps are safe for us, though! Make the playing field at least close to level," chimed in Matt.

"Of course. I believe Mike will be able to tell you which maps we should play on," she said, turning to Mike and quirking an eyebrow at him.

"Sure thing," he returned easily.

They spent the next hour and a half playing Halo before Rachel finally got up, saying she had to get home. "It was nice to see you all outside of school," she said shyly. "I had a lot of fun, scary movie notwithstanding."

Matt grinned at her, knowing that she really didn't have many friends at school. "Us too. We'll let you know the next time we play Halo so you can join us. Or, you know, you can always just hang with us."

Her eyes lit up at that, and she smiled widely. "Thank you, Matt." She turned to the other two boys. "Goodbye Noah, Mike. I'll see you all at school on Monday."

"See ya Berry," said Puck, looking away as Mike got up and hugged the slight girl before she walked out. That weird feeling in his stomach? Had to be from the pizza. Or maybe the burrito he had for lunch.

When they heard the front door shut, Matt wasted no time turning to Mike, who was sporting a goofy grin. "Dude. _Seriously_. After all that, you're really going to tell me there's nothing going on with you two?"

"After all what? And yeah, we're just friends."

Puck snorted. "Dude, Berry was practically sitting in your lap that whole movie." _Lucky bastard. Wait. What? Where did that come from?_

Mike opened his mouth to say something, a strange look crossing his face as his brows furrowed, before he closed his mouth again. Matt gave him a knowing look. When Mike finally spoke, he said, "We're just friends. Can we drop it now?"

"Just friends for _now_," muttered Puck under his breath. "Sure dude." _Fuck. Berry and Chang. That shit is unreal._

When Puck walked into school on Monday morning and saw Mike chatting with Rachel at her locker, her smiling brightly up at him, it brought a scowl to his face. When she laughed at something he said and playfully smacked him on the arm, Puck felt his jaw clenching reflexively. He stopped dead in his tracks when he realized what was happening to him. He might not be very good with feelings, but this one was broadcasting itself to him loud and clear.

_Well fuck. I'm _jealous_ of Chang being with Berry. How the _fuck _did that happen?_

_

* * *

**A/N:** Hope you enjoyed it! I am considering turning this into a multi-chapter fic depending on the response, let me know what you think!_


	2. Chapter 2

_**A/N:**_ _Wow, the response to the first part of this was amazing! Thank you to everyone who reviewed, alerted, and favourited this story, I am so grateful for the show of support. I do apologize for how long it has taken me to update; I was busy moving to South Africa, finding a place to live and starting my internship. Things have settled down a little now, though, and I promise I will try to update more quickly!_

**Disclaimer:**Glee and its characters are not mine, sadly. I am only borrowing them to play with for a while. Breakaway is by Kelly Clarkson.

* * *

She was putting her books in the locker as the bell rang for lunch before she noticed the blinking red light on her Blackberry alerting her to a new message. With the click of a few buttons, she saw that she had two missed calls from her dad, and a new voice message. Sighing, she closed her locker and checked her voicemail. She had a pretty good idea what the message would say before she even entered her passcode.

"_Hi sweet pea! It's dad and daddy. Sorry to call you during school, we know you're in class right now. We wanted to let you know that daddy's conference is over, but we decided to stay here in San Francisco for a while longer. We'll call again when we have a better idea when we'll be home. Feel free to use the credit card for whatever you need. We love you!"_

She closed her eyes and leaned against the bank of lockers for a moment. _Typical them_, she thought wryly. Her fathers were wonderful and she loved them dearly, but the last time they had been home for longer than a month had been when she was twelve. _I wonder if they even remember that my birthday is this weekend. _

The feel of someone's hand on her arm brought her out of her thoughts. Mike was standing in front of her, a concerned look on his face. "Rach? You okay?"

She looked up at him and plastered a bright smile on her face. "I'm fine, Mike."

"Come on, don't pull that. Not with me," he frowned. "What's going on?"

"It's really nothing important. I just received some disappointing, but not entirely unexpected news, is all. Nothing out of the ordinary for me, really," she sighed.

"_Rachel_," he said, still frowning. "It is so not okay to be used to being disappointed. What happened?"

She looked down at the floor, realizing that he wasn't going to give up. "My fathers extended their stay in San Francisco for a few days. I am uncertain as to how long it will be before they return. But it's fine! Really, I'm used to this."

"Haven't they been gone for, like, two weeks?"

"Well, yes. It's really not unusual for them to be gone for several weeks at a time. I do appreciate your concern, though," she said with a small smile.

He hesitated a little, not sure how to react or what to say. But then something occurred to him, and he grinned at her. "Can I see your iPod?"

"Um, sure," she said, shooting him a confused glance as she pulled the device out of her bag and handed it to him. He scrolled through the songs, and smiled when he saw the song he was looking for.

"Come on," he said, grabbing her hand and pulling her towards the auditorium.

"Mike? What are we doing?"

He looked down at her, not letting go as they walked up the steps to the stage. "You'll see." He finally released her hand in the middle of the stage before walking back to the sound room and plugging her iPod into the dock there. He pressed play and hurried back to center stage, where Rachel was staring at him quizzically.

She looked up at him in surprise as he pulled her into a ballroom dancing hold, then smiled slightly as she heard the beginning strains of the song fill the empty auditorium and he began leading them across the stage in a fast-paced waltz.

_Grew up in a small town_

_And when the rain would fall down_

_I'd just stare out my window_

_Dreaming of what could be_

_And if I'd end up happy_

_I would pray (I would pray)_

_Trying hard to reach out_

_But when I tried to speak out_

_Felt like no one could hear me_

_Wanted to belong here_

_But something felt so wrong here_

_So I prayed I could break away_

She started to laugh as they twirled across the stage, his grip on her sure as he spun her around, grinning down at her with bright eyes. He nodded at her encouragingly as he saw her relax.

_I'll spread my wings and I'll learn how to fly_

_I'll do what it takes til I touch the sky_

_And I'll make a wish_

_Take a chance_

_Make a change_

_And break away_

_Out of the darkness and into the sun_

_But I won't forget the ones that I love_

_I'll take a risk_

_Take a chance_

_Make a change_

_And break away_

They were both laughing now, caught up in the simple pleasure of moving to the music, oblivious to the world around them. It was exhilarating.

_Wanna feel the warm breeze_

_Sleep under a palm tree_

_Feel the rush of the ocean_

_Get on board a fast train_

_Travel on a jet plane_

_Far away (I will)_

_And break away_

_I'll spread my wings and I'll learn how to fly_

_I'll do what it takes til I touch the sky_

_And I'll make a wish_

_Take a chance_

_Make a change_

_And break away_

_Out of the darkness and into the sun_

_But I won't forget the ones that I love_

_I'll take a risk_

_Take a chance_

_Make a change_

_And break away_

They continued to move around the stage, Mike leading confidently and occasionally twirling Rachel out and away from him before pulling her back into his arms with a smile. She had started singing along with the music, and flashed him a wide smile when his voice began to harmonize with her soprano.

_Buildings with a hundred floors_

_Swinging around revolving doors_

_Maybe I don't know where they'll take me but_

_Gotta keep moving on, moving on_

_Fly away, break away_

_I'll spread my wings and I'll learn how to fly_

_Though it's not easy to tell you goodbye_

_I gotta take a risk_

_Take a chance_

_Make a change_

_And break away_

_Out of the darkness and into the sun_

_But I won't forget the place I come from_

_I gotta take a risk_

_Take a chance_

_Make a change_

_And break away, break away, break away_

She beamed up at him breathlessly as the music faded away and they finally stopped moving. "That was so much fun, Mike!" she exclaimed, throwing her arms around him for a hug.

"Good. That was the idea," he replied as they pulled away from each other, pleased that his attempt to cheer her up seemed to have worked. "Feeling better?"

"Much. Thank you," she said happily. "You've been holding out on me, though. I had no idea you could waltz!"

"Yeah, well, my mom made me take all kinds of ballroom dance lessons before she would let me start taking hip hop," he said sheepishly. "To be honest I love all kinds of dancing, there's just not much reason for me to use my ballroom dancing skills these days. I mean, how often will I need to know how to waltz, really?"

"True," Rachel responded. "But I have to say, I am very glad that you do. This has been quite unexpected, but I thoroughly enjoyed myself."

"I'm glad. Dancing always makes me feel better, and I thought it might help take your mind off things." He took hold of her hand again and tugged her to sit down at the front of the stage, feet hanging off the edge. They spent the rest of the lunch period discussing the different styles of dance and the lessons they had both taken through the years. It came as no great shock that Rachel was well trained in ballet, jazz, tap, and various styles of ballroom and Latin dancing—please, she was _Rachel Berry_—but he was surprised to learn that she had taken a few hip hop classes. She had been impressed by his hip hop and pop and lock skills since he joined glee, but was frankly amazed at his extensive ballroom training, and when he got up to demonstrate his contemporary dance skills, twisting and leaping across the stage, it _literally_ took her breath away. The time passed quickly, and before they knew it the bell was ringing, signaling the end of their lunch period.

"Oh, you didn't get to eat lunch! I'm so sorry," she said, looking up at him apologetically as they made their way out of the auditorium.

"No worries Rach, it's fine," he reassured her. She glanced at him, a curious expression on her face, but stayed silent as they walked.

"Mike?" she finally said softly as they reached her locker.

"Hm?" he raised an eyebrow at her.

"Thank you. That was… wonderful."

He grinned at her as she pulled out some books. "Anytime Rach. Really." He slung a companionable arm around her shoulders as she shut her locker door. "Now c'mon. I have a free period now, but let's get you to class."

She couldn't help but smile as they walked down the hall together. When they reached the open door to her Spanish class with Mr. Schuester, he gave her shoulder a quick squeeze. "See you in Glee later?"

"Absolutely."

When she stepped into the classroom, she noticed that Puck was scowling at her for some reason. _I wonder what that's about? _She didn't have much time to wonder about it, though, before Mr. Schue came in and started the lesson on irregular past participles. She quickly became absorbed in filling page after page with notes, and forgot all about the dark expression on Puck's face until the end of the class when they all filed out into the hall.

"Hey Berry!"

She turned around to see Puck approaching her with a frown on his face. "Yes, Noah? What can I do for you?"

"What's up with you and Chang? I mean, when did you become BFFs or whatever?"

She stared at him in confusion. "Mike? What do you mean?"

"Oh, come _on_. He was all over you before Spanish."

"No, he was _not_," she said firmly, rolling her eyes at him. "I was feeling a bit out of sorts at lunch, and he was merely being a good friend and cheering me up."

"Uh huh," grunted Puck skeptically. "Whatever you say."

"Noah! Michael and I are _friends_. He is one of the very few people at this school that I can say that about with any degree of confidence." She furrowed her brow suddenly, looking up at him. "Why do you care, anyway?"

"I'm not—I just—_shit_. I don't, okay?" he mumbled, abruptly fascinated by the tiled floor.

She shook her head. "I do not understand you at _all_."

"Yeah, whatever. Hey, are you—" he was cut short as Rachel let out a gasp beside him, suddenly covered in orange slushy. "The _fuck_?" he swore. He looked around in anger—he remembered his own experience being slushied, and that shit _stings_—and saw a JV hockey player laughing as he walked away with an empty cup. Before he realized what he was doing, Puck had stalked toward the hockey player, grabbed his shoulder to spin him around, and slammed him up against the lockers. "You think this shit is funny, asshole?" he snarled. "You come near Berry with a slushy again and I will make your life a living hell. Get me? Back the _fuck_ off!" He punched the locker next to the guy's head for emphasis before shoving him down the hall.

When he turned around again, Rachel was staring at him, brown eyes wide despite the icy concoction dripping down her face. "I—thank you, Noah."

"No big," he said gruffly. "You okay?"

"Fine," she said softly. "It's nothing I'm not used to dealing with."

He grimaced slightly at her words, feeling a sudden surge of remorse. Who knew he was capable of having, you know, _feelings_? "You know I'm sorry about that, right?"

The corners of her mouth turned up a little, but her eyes were sad as she looked up at him. "Yes, I do know. But it _is_ nice to hear you say it," she murmured, shuffling her feet a little. "I need to go get cleaned up now, but thank you again."

He raised a hand to rub the back of his neck, looking down at her doubtfully as they continued toward her locker. "You need help or something?"

The smile reached her eyes this time as she said, "No, but thank you."

As they turned the corner, they saw that Mike was standing by her locker. He looked over at them and swore as he took in her appearance, hurrying over. "Rach? What happened?"

Puck rolled his eyes. "What does it look like?"

"I got slushied," she said as she opened her locker. "As I told Noah, it's nothing I am not used to dealing with."

Mike's eyes narrowed in anger before he turned to Puck with a single word. "Who?"

"Some JV hockey douche," he growled. "Already taken care of," he added, seeing the unspoken question in Mike's eyes.

"Good."

"Oh, _shoot_," they heard Rachel exclaim, irritation clear in her voice.

"What?" asked Puck.

"I was in a rush when I left my house this morning, and I seem to have forgotten my spare clothes," she said miserably. The warning bell began to ring, and she sighed, looking at the two boys. "You should both get to class."

"Nope," said Mike, crossing his arms. "I'm not leaving you here like this."

Puck shrugged. "I have a free period now."

She hesitated. "I appreciate it, really. But—"

"No buts," said Mike, lifting a hand to take hold of her elbow. "Let's get you cleaned up a little."

The trio made their way through the hall to the nearest girls' bathroom, ignoring the odd looks they received at the sight of the two football players hovering protectively around the Glee queen. Puck laughed a little on the inside as they walked. _Who would have thought I would ever be the one helping Berry clean up after getting slushied? _Because seriously, at the beginning of the school year if anyone had tried to tell him he would help Berry with _anything_, he would have told them to go to a shrink to get their crazy taken care of. Then he would have thrown them in a dumpster.

The restroom was empty when they pushed into it, and the boys watched as she began running water in the sink, waiting for it to warm up. She pulled off her sweater, leaving her torso clad in a black tank top, and handed it to Mike before pulling out a folding chair and setting it up with its back to the sink. She sat down, leaning her head into the sink to let the water run over her hair. Remembering the way she had helped him when he was slushied, Puck stepped forward and clumsily began to help her rinse the sticky drink from her tresses. When it was all gone, she wrung the water out of her hair and stood up.

"Thanks," she said softly.

"No problem, Berry," he replied, trying not to smile at her. _I am a badass_, he reminded himself._ I do _not_ do the whole taking care of damsels in distress thing. _Except, _shit_, he totally just did.

Mike handed her some paper towels to dry off a little, then said, "I should have a clean towel in my gym locker that you could use, if you want. Want me to go get it?"

"Yes, please."

"'kay. I'll go get it, you guys stay here."

Puck nodded in confirmation at the tall Asian, who passed him Rachel's sweater before walking out. Rachel folded the chair back up and returned it to its place by the side of the sinks, then began to rinse off her face, frowning when she remembered that her little makeup bag was probably at home with her change of clothes. She was just patting her face dry with more paper towels when Mike came back in.

"Here you go," he said, handing her a fluffy, dark blue towel. She took it gratefully and dried her face properly, then flipped her head over and dried her hair. "I had a sweatshirt in my locker too, if you want to borrow it," he offered, holding it out to her.

She stared at it, then brought her eyes up to his face, then back down at the McKinley High Football sweatshirt. She bit her lip, suddenly overwhelmed, both by how poorly her day was turning out and by his continued kindness. Mike looked at her in consternation when he saw the tears pooling in her eyes, and hastily pulled her into a hug, looking wide-eyed at Puck over her shoulder. "What happened?" he mouthed.

Puck frowned, shaking his head to indicate he didn't know what had upset the petite girl.

Mike frowned back, but tightened his hold around the brunette's waist. "Hey, Rach, it's okay," he said softly as she ducked her head against his chest. He started to rub one hand in soothing circles across her back, lifting the other to smooth her hair back when she started to sob silently into his shirt. "You're okay. Everything will be fine."

Puck looked on helplessly, not sure what to do but not wanting to leave. _The fuck is up with Berry and Chang being all touchy-feely with each other all the time? _A few minutes later, Rachel's breathing evened out and she pulled away from Mike a little. "I apologize," she said, her voice low as she turned her head to look at Puck. "I really had no intention to fall apart on you guys like that."

"Don't sweat it, Berry," said Puck.

"Yeah, really," Mike agreed, gently wiping some tears off her face with his thumb. "I know you haven't exactly had the best day. This is what friends are for, okay? So don't apologize."

She looked back and forth between the two boys, thinking they were simply being polite. She saw no hint of insincerity on their faces, however, and she smiled weakly. "Thank you."

"No problem. What brought that on, though?" Puck asked curiously.

"Oh. I—well—I suppose—as Mike mentioned, this has not been the best of days for me," she stammered. "Normally I would brush it off, but today you were both here to help. That is something new for me—having people actually _want_ to help me—and it was just a little overwhelming."

_Well fuck_, thought Puck. _What the hell do you say to something like that? Pretty sure there's no polite response for when someone tells you they're used to being treated like shit._ He exchanged guilty looks with Mike; Puck for being part of the reason she was used to having bad days, and Mike for standing by and not helping her even though he knew that the way people treated her was wrong.

After a few seconds of awkward silence, Mike grabbed his football sweatshirt from the counter where he had dropped it, and handed it to Rachel. "Here," he said. "You should put this on, you're shivering."

She nodded, pulling the hooded top over her head. Mike stifled a laugh when he saw the sleeves dangling past her fingertips, and reached out to push them up to her elbows. She looked down, noting that the sweatshirt was almost as long as her skirt. "I look ridiculous, don't I," she sighed as she pulled her damp hair up into a ponytail.

Puck smirked. "If that sweatshirt was any longer or your skirt was any shorter, it would like you had nothing on under your top."

"Noah! Please tell me you're joking," she gasped. She turned to Mike pleadingly. "Is it really that bad?"

Mike glared at Puck. "You're fine. The sweatshirt is big on you, no denying that, but it's _not_ what Puck makes it sound like. Really. It's _fine_," he reassured her.

Puck chuckled. "Relax, Berry. No one would seriously think you would walk around school in just a sweatshirt, anyway." _Even though it would be _seriously_ hot. Well, if it wasn't _Chang's _sweatshirt._

She sighed in relief. "Good." She reached out to take her sweater back from Puck. "I'm going to go put this in my locker." She walked out of the bathroom, the boys trailing along after her. At her locker, she cleared the top shelf before placing her sweater there, then gathered up her books for class and looked up at the boys in shy amusement. "You know, there is no need for the two of you to follow me."

Mike chuckled. "I know. But my class is in the same direction as yours, I think, so I might as well walk with you. You have chemistry now, right?"

She nodded and shut her locker. Impulsively, she threw her arms around Puck in a quick hug; he was surprised but circled his arms around her waist and patted her on the back softly before releasing her. "Thank you for your help today, Noah."

He smiled at her wryly. "Like I said before, no big."

Mike picked up his backpack, which he had dropped on the floor by Rachel's locker when he saw her covered in slushy, and slung it over his shoulder. He bumped fists with Puck before grabbing her books and starting down the hall with her, one arm wrapped lightly around her waist. Puck scowled, not liking the familiar way she leaned into his friend as they walked away. He kicked a locker in irritation at the jealousy that was burning through him. _Get a grip, Puckerman. This is Rachel fuckin' Berry. The girl that makes you want to light yourself on fire._

Except, she totally _didn't_. Thinking about it, he couldn't remember the last time he _had_ felt that way about her. Months, at least. He groaned inwardly.

_I am so fucking screwed._


	3. Chapter 3

**_A/N:_** _Again, thank you all so much for reading this story! Special thanks to all who have reviewed or put this story on their alert or favourite story list. Apologies again for the length of time between updates; this chapter refused to cooperate, and I've been busy with more clients than usual. I have a good start on the next chapter though, so hopefully that will be up sometime next week. _

_Consider this officially **disclaimed**_.

* * *

When Mike arrived at the choir room for Glee rehearsal after school, he made a beeline to the corner where Rachel and Matt were sitting. He grinned when he saw that for once, Rachel wasn't sitting on her own. He took in the easy way the two of them were chatting, happy that his best friend was getting along with the brunette. "Hey guys," he said, setting his backpack down on the floor as he took a seat on Rachel's other side.

"Hey man," replied Matt.

"Hello Mike," said Rachel softly, smiling at him.

"Rachel and I were just talking about the fact that she should start playing Gears of War. You know, since she's basically mastered Halo," said Matt, nudging her playfully with his shoulder.

Mike's face lit up. "That is an _excellent_ idea! You guys are both coming over after Glee to play!"

"We are?" laughed Rachel.

"You are," nodded Mike excitedly.

"Well I'm not. I have to babysit my cousin. It's really a two-player game anyway, at least if you're planning to play through the campaign," Matt said in amusement.

"Oh yeah," frowned Mike. "Forgot about that. Guess it'll just be you and me then, Rach."

She smiled at him. She enjoyed spending time with him, and besides, it beat spending another evening alone at home.

The trio continued talking as the rest of the club began to file in. The sight of Rachel and the two football players bantering prompted curious stares from some of them, but for the most part they seemed to take it in stride. The club had come a long way from the beginning of the year, with the boundaries between the original members and the football players and cheerleaders blurring more and more as time went on.

They all looked up when Mr. Schue entered the room, clapping his hands together. "Alright guys, new assignment this week! Everyone will pair off, and choose an artist that they like for their partner to sing; your partner gets to choose which song. The point here is for everyone to sing something they might not choose to otherwise. So, for example, I could choose Bruce Springsteen as the artist, and then my partner might choose Glory Days as the song they would sing."

Mercedes raised her hand, looking at the teacher expectantly. "Do we choose our partners?"

He shook his head. "Random pairings, guys. Names out of a hat," he paused, looking down at the bowl in his hand. "Or a bowl from the cafeteria, as the case may be."

Everyone looked around the room anxiously. They may have started to get along better as a group, but they still weren't _that_ close. Santana finally stood up, irritation evident on her face. "Fine. I'll go first." She walked up to Mr. Schue and fished a slip of paper out of the bowl. "Artie," she read.

Quinn went up next. "Matt."

Brittany skipped up to the front of the room and drew out a piece of paper. "Finn!"

Rachel crossed the room next, but pulled out Brittany's name. She reached in again, and read aloud, "Puck."

Mercedes walked up and picked out a slip of paper, discarding it when she saw Quinn's name written down. "Mike."

"Which leaves Tina and Kurt as the last pair," announced Mr. Schue. "Okay, everyone get together in your pairs and use the rest of practice for brainstorming. We'll keep going through our existing setlist tomorrow."

The room filled with the sound of everyone shuffling around to move their things and sit with their partners. Mike grinned back at Rachel when she flashed him a smile before getting up to go sit with Puck, and looked at Mercedes a little apprehensively as she sat down next to him. He didn't know her very well, and he was a little worried about the artist she would pick for him.

For the next hour and a half, they all discussed their tastes in music and the artists they might get their partners to sing. By the end, they were all tired of trying to convince their partners of the genius of their choices, and more than one argument had broken out. Mike was certain that his head would _explode_ if he had to listen to Mercedes extol the virtues of Aretha Franklin for one more minute, so he interrupted her. "_Mercedes_. Look, I actually agree with you. I _do_. Aretha has some awesome songs. But seriously, _I can't sing them_."

She looked at him in suspicion before letting out a short laugh. "Alright, I guess you're right," she said grudgingly. "Maybe you don't have the pipes to do Aretha justice."

He groaned. "I really don't think there's any _maybe_ about it. Look, clearly we're not going to decide on anything today. Let's just think about it and come up with some suggestions for next time, okay?"

She looked at him for a second before responding, "You're right. Let's pull together a list of artists for each other and get together tomorrow?"

"Sounds good." He sighed in relief when she walked back over to Kurt, who could be heard trying to convince Tina that she should sing something by Celine Dion.

Matt retuned from the other side of the room, a frustrated expression on his face. "Dude. I seriously hope you had better luck with Mercedes than I did with Quinn. She wanted me to sing _country_."

"Yeah, well, Mercedes wanted me to sing Aretha Franklin. I win. Do I _look_ like I can pull that off?"

Matt snickered. "Okay, yeah, you win. I can probably do Garth Brooks better than you can do Aretha."

Mike nodded as they headed over to Rachel and Puck. "Hey guys. Rach, you still coming over?"

"Yes, I am, but I am also starting a new dance class later tonight so my time at your house will be limited to a few hours."

He nodded in understanding. "No problem. What class are you starting?"

"Swing dancing! I know a few steps, but am not versed in this particular style, and it just looks so _fun_," she said, her face lighting up. "And it can only help my future career prospects to expand my dance repertoire."

"Swing is a lot of fun, you'll love it," remarked Matt offhandedly.

Puck stared at him. "Swing dancing dude? Really?"

"Yeah," he replied unfazed. "Don't knock what you haven't tried."

"Huh," murmured Mike thoughtfully. "I've never taken swing either. It's a beginners' class, right Rach?"

"Yes. Oh! Are you considering taking the class as well? It would be lovely to have a partner I know."

He grinned at her. "Well, I'm thinking about it now, I guess. It seems like it could be fun."

She clapped her hands together in delight, bouncing a little on her feet. "Oh, please take it with me! It would be so nice to take a class with a friend, particularly one that I _know_ dances well. You know what beginners' classes can be like."

He grimaced, recalling his own experiences in such classes with bumbling, uncoordinated people who could barely execute simple steps. "Yeah. Well, no promises, but I'll think about it."

Puck coughed, drawing their attention to him. "Oh, Noah, I do apologize. Did you want to continue working on the project?" exclaimed Rachel.

"Whatever Berry. I gotta go pick up my kid sister from the babysitter. I just wanted to know when you wanted to get together to work on the assignment?"

"Well, clearly today will not work. Is tomorrow after school acceptable?"

He nodded. "Yeah, that's fine. _Try_ to think of some artists that aren't completely lame, alright?"

"I have impeccable taste in music, Noah!"

"Yeah, yeah. Whatever you say," he smirked, gathering his things to leave. "See you tomorrow."

She frowned after him, then turned to Mike. "That boy is _infuriating_."

He laughed. "You're only just now discovering this?"

"Obviously not. But that does _not_ make him any less irritating!"

Matt chuckled at her. "All right kids, I gotta go too. Rach, next time we all get together I fully expect you to be able to kick Mike's ass at Gears of War."

"Hey!" complained Mike as Rachel beamed up at his best friend.

"What? You're the one who taught her how to play video games! You brought this on yourself, dude," teased Matt.

Mike glared at him, making Rachel burst into laughter. The frown dissolved from his face as he looked down at the brunette, glad to see her in good spirits after a bad day. "Fine," he relented. "I suppose you may have a point."

Matt smiled at them. "Yeah I do. Anyway, I gotta get going. See you guys tomorrow."

Mike turned to Rachel after he left. "Are you following me back to my place or do you need a ride?"

"Oh. Well, I took the bus to school this morning because my dads had planned to pick me up after my dance class, but obviously that is no longer going to happen. A ride would be lovely."

They continued the walk to his Acura without saying anything, and though it was a comfortable silence, Mike was concerned about her being so unusually quiet. They were in the car and halfway to his house before he looked over at her and spoke tentatively. "Rach? Is everything okay?"

"I am fine, Mike. Just thinking." she said softly.

"Yeah? What's on your mind?"

"Oh, a lot of things. Nothing for you to worry about."

He glanced at her skeptically. "Mm-hm. If you say so."

"I do say so. I am simply a little bit. . . out of sorts, I suppose."

"I can tell. Well, you know what the cure is, right?"

"No, what?"

"Running around and killing the aliens that are trying to destroy humanity," he grinned.

She couldn't help but laugh, and by the time they pulled into his driveway they were deep in conversation about Gears of War. He was still trying to explain the system of taking cover, and the benefits of blind firing, when they walked in the door and were greeted by his mother.

"Mike, Rachel! I was just on my way out to the grocery store. Anything you need?" she asked.

Rachel smiled at the woman she had only met a few weeks ago. She and Mike had run into each other one day when they left the dance studio and had gotten caught up talking about their respective classes. After waiting in her car for half an hour while the two teens chatted, Mrs. Chang finally emerged and told them in no uncertain terms that they could continue their conversation at the dinner table. Rachel had been embarrassed and apologetic, but Mike had only laughed and dragged her to the car, his mother following behind with an amused twinkle in her eyes. She had been to Mike's house several times since then, and each time his mother greeted her with a smile and made her feel welcome there.

"No thank you, Mrs. Chang. I'm fine."

"Oh, call me Lisa, dear. All Mike's close friends do."

Rachel flushed at her words, looking anywhere but at Mike. "Oh. Well, okay then. . . Lisa."

The older woman smiled at her kindly before turning to her son. "Mike, did you want anything?"

"Could you pick up some chips and salsa?" he asked.

"Sure. I'll probably be back in forty-five minutes or so, will you still be here?"

They both nodded, and she smiled at them again before walking out the door. Rachel looked at Mike a little ruefully. "I'm sorry. I should have corrected your mother."

"Corrected her? About what?" he asked, confused.

"Well, she said that your close friends call her Lisa, and, well, I should have told her that I am not one of your close friends."

He gave her a strange look. "Why would you do that?"

"Well," she started, a pained expression on her face, "I do realize that I am far from being the most popular person at school, or even popular at all. You, on the other hand, are at the top of the McKinley social pyramid. You play football, have popular friends, hang out with Cheerios, and get invited to all the social events. I know that having people think that you are friends with me will be damaging to your position in the high school hierarchy."

He considered her brutally honest words, and remembered what she had said earlier about not having people around to help her. A frown crept across his face, and he lifted one hand to her shoulder. "All of that may be true. But there's no reason for me to let any of it dictate who my friends are. And if people think that I'm friends with you, they're right. You _are _my friend. I like hanging out with you. Yeah, you're kind of intense sometimes, but you're also fun, smart and crazy talented. I'm not ashamed that you're my friend, okay?"

She looked at him disbelievingly, but when his expression remained serious, she managed a small smile. "Okay."

He sighed, knowing she didn't fully believe him. He realized that nothing he could say to her right now would convince her he was telling the truth, even though he really wanted to make his new friend see that she was worth being friends with. "Come on," he said instead, using the hand on her shoulder to turn her around and propel her to the living room. "Let's go kill some stuff."

Half an hour later, Rachel was getting the hang of the cover system and bemoaning the fact that the game didn't allow her to carry more grenades. "This is ridiculous! _How_ am I supposed to kill these things when I keep running out of ammunition? I mean, _really_! I can't chainsaw an entire group!"

He paused the game and turned to her incredulously, unable to hold in his laughter. When she glared at him, he only laughed harder.

"_What_, may I ask, is so funny?"

He took some deep breaths, visibly trying to regain his composure, but the smile wouldn't leave his face. At length, he finally said, "Sorry Rach. It's just. . . it's _you_. Complaining about _grenades_. And _chainsawing people_."

Her eyes widened, and a giggle escaped from her lips. "I suppose it _does_ sound rather unlike my usual behaviour."

He snorted in amusement. "No kidding. I could announce it on the PA system at school tomorrow and no one would believe me."

"True," she laughed.

He grinned at her and got up from the couch. "Come on, let's get something to drink."

She followed him into the kitchen, where he opened the fridge to pull out a can of soda for himself, and a bottle of water for Rachel at her request. They had just settled at the kitchen table when they heard the garage door opening. A few minutes later, Mike's mom appeared in the kitchen and laid several bags of groceries on the counter. She looked through them, then pulled one back off the counter and placed it on the table where Mike and Rachel were sitting. "There's chips, salsa, and guacamole in there. And Rachel, I know you said you didn't want anything, but I grabbed some hummus, pre-cut veggies and pita chips for you."

"Oh! Thank you, that really wasn't necessary, you didn't have to go to that trouble for me."

Lisa smiled and waved her concern away. "It was no trouble at all, really."

"Well thank you," said Rachel. "Can we help you to put things away?"

"We?" grumbled Mike.

Rachel shook her head. "Yes, _we_. Be nice to your mother, Mike."

His mom smothered her laughter as she saw him sigh, then get up from his seat, a long-suffering expression on his face. "It's okay, kids. Thank you, but there's not much to put away." She took down several bowls and a plate from the cupboard and put them on the table. "Why don't you take these out to the living room?"

Rachel opened the bag of pita chips and poured some out into one of the bowls, then opened the container of cherry tomatoes, celery sticks and carrot sticks to put some on the plate. She balanced the hummus container on one side of the plate, then took everything out to the living room. Mike did likewise with the tortilla chips, salsa and guacamole. When they had settled on the couch with their snacks, Rachel turned towards him. "So, are you going to take the swing class with me?"

He nodded. "I think so."

"Oh! This will be so much fun!" She beamed at him, and threw her arms around his shoulders in a sideways hug; he chuckled, slipping his arms around her waist to return the hug. When they released each other, she began to talk animatedly. "It is _so_ nice to know I will have a partner who knows what he's doing! Just watch, we'll be the best in the class," she said smugly. "Oh, and just think, we may be able to use what we learn for choreography in glee!"

"Hold up, Rach," he laughed. "One step at a time."

"Oh, fine," she pouted. "But you just wait and see, I'll be right. We _will_ be the best in the class!"

He rolled his eyes. "Let's just play some more Gears of War."

They played for almost another hour before Rachel said they should probably get going if they wanted to make the class on time. He nodded and turned off the Xbox, then they cleared the living room. "Do you need to go home to get dance clothes?"

She shook her head. "I have my stuff in my backpack, and I also have a set in a locker at the studio. I don't think we require special clothes or anything for swing, anyway."

"Okay then, I guess I'll be fine in jeans and a tshirt. Let me just go tell my mom that I'm trying out a new class, then we can take off."

She perched on the edge of the padded bench in the entryway while Mike ran up the stairs. A minute or two later, he traipsed back down the steps, his mother close behind him. "Have fun at the class, kids! Rachel, are you coming back for dinner?"

She glanced at Mike, who shrugged. "Um, sure, Mrs. . . . Lisa. Dinner would be lovely, thank you very much for the invitation."

"Of course. Now, get going you two," Lisa said, shooing them out the door.

"Bye mom!" yelled Mike as they got in his car. As they reached the first stop sign on his street, he turned to the petite girl in his passenger seat. "What are you humming? It sounds familiar."

"Oh!" Rachel blushed. "I apologize. I have a habit of singing or humming songs that fit my mood. I know that many people find it irritating, so I have been trying to rein in that behaviour, but oftentimes I don't even realize that I'm doing it, so—"

He cut her off. "_Rachel._ Relax. I just wanted to know the name of the song."

She blinked. "Oh. Runaway."

"The Linkin Park song?" he asked, startled.

She nodded, and softly sang the beginning of the song.

_Graffiti decorations_

_Under a sky of dust_

_A constant wave of tension_

_On top of broken trust_

_The lessons that you taught me_

_I learned were never true_

_Now I find myself in question_

_Guilty by association_

_I want to runaway_

_Never say goodbye_

_I want to know the truth_

_Instead of wondering why_

_I want to know the answers_

_No more lies_

_I want to shut the door_

_And open up my mind_

He looked over at her when her voice trailed off. "Didn't know you liked that kind of music."

She nodded, offering him a small smile. "As I was trying to tell Noah earlier, my taste in music actually _does_ extend beyond soundtracks from musicals. And Linkin Park, perhaps surprisingly, has some songs that resonate with me."

He was silent for a few seconds, then threw her a sidelong glance. "They're a good band. But that song. . . the lyrics are a little, I don't know, gloomy, don't you think?"

If he hadn't been listening for her answer, he would have missed it. "Yes," she said, suddenly quiet, turning her head to look out the window.

He knit his eyebrows together, unsure how to respond to that. She didn't appear inclined to start the conversation back up again, so they spent the last ten minutes of the drive to the studio in silence. This was a side of Rachel he hadn't seen before, and it troubled him. He had seen his friend in a lot of different emotional states—happy, exuberant, overbearing, angry (not at _him_, thank God, that shit was _scary_), frustrated, worried—but he had never seen her so pensive and just plain _sad_. Upset, sure, but this seemed to be more than that.

When he cut the engine in the parking lot of the dance studio, she was still quiet, eyes closed as she tilted her head back against the headrest. He watched for a moment as she drew in a deep breath and released it slowly, then hesitantly reached over and placed his hand over hers. "Rach?"

Her eyes fluttered open, but she didn't remove her hand from under his. "Later, okay? Just. . . not now," she said, her brown eyes pleading.

He nodded, squeezing her hand briefly before releasing it and getting out of the car. She followed him into the studio, where she changed into black yoga capris, a red tank top and a dark grey zip-up hoodie before they made their way to the swing class. They hung their coats on hooks outside the room before walking in and surveying the people gathered there. "So, think we can take 'em?" he asked impishly, attempting to lighten her mood.

"Absolutely," she said, knowing what he was doing but happy to play along. "Do you see how nervous everyone else looks? And I don't recognize _any _of these people from my classes, which are numerous. Which probably means that they are _complete_ beginners at dancing."

He scanned the room quickly. "I don't recognize anyone from my classes either, actually."

Rachel's prediction that they would be the best in class was born out over the next forty-five minutes, as the instructors taught them some basic steps that they quickly mastered. The rest of the class, however, was still struggling. When the instructors announced a ten minute break, they approached the two teens to let them know they could skip the second half of the class if they wanted to.

"You both obviously have a lot of dance experience, I can see it in the way you move," said Kelly, the female instructor. "You're also picking up the steps a lot faster than anyone else. The second half will just be reiterating the steps from the first half, so if you want to take off, you can." Paul, the male instructor, nodded in agreement.

Rachel and Mike exchanged a look, and Mike shrugged before turning to the instructors. "Okay. When's the next class?"

"Thursday," said Paul. "See you then!"

The teens pulled on their coats and walked out to the parking lot. After they had gotten into his car and buckled up, Mike turned to her thoughtfully. "So, mom's not expecting us back for a while. You want to hang out somewhere for a while?"

"Okay," she said, the corners of her lips turning up a little. "Where to?"

He grinned as he started the car. "I'm going to show you my favourite place in Lima."


	4. Chapter 4

_**A/N: **__Thanks to everyone who continues to read this, especially those of you who have taken the time to write reviews. It really helps me get the chapters out more quickly. I hope you are all enjoying the story. _

_**Disclaimer: **__Alas, I cannot call Glee my own._

_

* * *

_

Rachel looked around questioningly when Mike pulled the car to a stop. "Your favourite place in Lima is the community college?" she asked uncertainly.

He laughed at the doubtful look on her face. "We're not there yet. Come on."

She hopped out of the car and followed him across the campus. "Are you thirsty?" he asked, stopping in front of a vending machine by the main quad.

"Some water would be good, thanks," she replied. "My wallet's in my bag though, I'll have to pay you back when we get back to the car."

"Nah," he said good-naturedly. "I got it."

"Are you sure?"

He rolled his eyes, because only Rachel Berry would offer to pay him back for a bottle of _water_. "Yes, Rach, I'm sure. If you insist, you can pay me back the whole dollar and twenty-five cents, but it's really not necessary."

"Oh," she said, smiling a little. "Well, thank you then." She waited as he got two bottles of water from the machine, then walked beside him quietly as they continued to meander through the campus, coming to a section that was heavily wooded.

"Okay, now we're here," he finally said, stopping in front of a small building.

She read the sign above the double doors in disbelief. "The zoology building?"

He shook his head, smiled and led her to the back of the building, where there was a large, open, grassy area. There were a few picnic tables scattered across the lawn, and a few flowerbeds along the wall of the building. The ground began to slope upwards further away from the building, and at the top of the hill was a grove of trees.

"Come on," he said, taking her hand. He took her up the hill, to the copse of trees, and stopped in front of a large oak at the very back. He hoisted himself up onto one of the lower branches, then stood carefully, bracing himself against the wide trunk.

"Your favourite place in Lima is a _tree_?" She cocked an eyebrow up at him, but he just grinned boyishly down at her, and motioned her to climb up. She sighed, passed up the water bottles she was holding, then grabbed the branch and attempted to lift herself up onto it, not making it until he reached down to grab one of her arms and pull her up to sit on the branch.

"Almost there," he said, gesturing upwards. She peered in the direction he pointed, and saw a treehouse winding about the large trunk. It appeared to have two levels, the lower one resting on branches just a couple yards higher than where they currently were, and on the other side of the trunk. She followed his lead as he began to climb, and a couple minutes later he was pulling her up into the treehouse. When they were both securely inside, he fumbled along the floor until he found something. "Aha," he murmured. Suddenly, the treehouse was lit by hundreds of tiny white Christmas lights strung along the interior, and Rachel inhaled sharply in delight.

"Oh, this is lovely! _This_ is your favourite place in Lima?" she breathed.

He nodded, pleased at her reaction. "Yeah."

She turned slowly in a full circle, taking in her surroundings. There was nothing grand or fancy about it, just thick wooden planks forming a floor and walls, with a small window facing outwards. There was a low ceiling that only barely allowed Mike to stand upright, and a roughly hewn wooden bench just big enough for two along the tree trunk. "How do you know about this?" she asked as she took a seat on the bench.

"My dad is a professor here. When I was little, sometimes he'd pick me up from school and take me to the campus. A lot of the time he'd be busy, but there were always other professors around that were willing to watch me while he taught. One of them teaches zoology, and he let me run around out here," he said, smiling at the memory. "I have no idea why this was originally built, but I don't think anyone uses it anymore."

"How perfect for a little kid," she said.

"Yeah," he nodded. "I still come here sometimes when I need to think, or just want to get away from everything. It's just so . . ."

"Peaceful," she finished. "I envy you this place, it's really wonderful."

He looked at her thoughtfully. "You can come here too, you know. It's not like I own it or anything. Just . . . I would appreciate it if you didn't tell everyone about it."

"Oh," she said, touched. "Thank you. And of course, I won't tell anyone. I know how important it is to have space to yourself."

He sat by her on the bench, and they sat together in companionable silence, the stillness of dusk broken only by the occasional birdcall and the faint echo of students' conversations and laughter as they passed by the zoology building. After a few minutes, she broke the silence, gently bumping his shoulder with her own. "So, where are these lights plugged in? It seems fairly sophisticated for a treehouse. Not that I have a lot of experience with treehouses, but still. . ."

He chuckled. "The power lines in this part of town are underground. At some point, someone must have had a line run up here, because there's an outlet next to the bench."

"Oh!" she exclaimed in surprise, twisting around to look at the floor. Sure enough, there was a power outlet between the bench and the gap in the wall where they had entered. It was much like the power outlets in her backyard, just a box fixed to the floor, with a power cord encased in thick insulation disappearing through a small hole drilled into the floor near the trunk.

"Yeah. I don't know what else you would need electricity for in a treehouse, but it's useful for the lights. I put them up in middle school; I was going to take a lamp from the living room, but my mom caught me. She made me take a bunch of our old Christmas lights instead," he said, making a face.

She laughed at the image of a younger Mike trying to sneak out of his house with a table lamp. He grinned at her and got to his feet. "Come on," he said. "You haven't seen the best part yet."

She followed him to a gap in the wall opposite the one where they had climbed in, and saw several thick, sturdy planks stretching from where they were to a higher section of the treehouse. He walked nimbly across the walkway and turned around to wait for her. She proceeded more cautiously, steadying herself with one hand on the tree trunk, and grasped his hand when he extended it to her to help her into the second area. There were fewer lights strung across this level, which was smaller than the lower section, and was more open to the elements, with the outer wall only a few feet tall to leave what amounted to an enormous window. He kept hold of her hand, tugging her gently to sit on another bench, slightly larger than the other one, and with some old, worn cushions atop it.

"Wow," she murmured, taking in the view. The tree was on the edge of the grove, and they had a good view across the town through the branches. It was a clear evening, and the stars were just starting to come out as the sky darkened. "This is beautiful, Mike," she said, unconsciously leaning against him a little.

"Yeah. Like I said, it's a good place to think," he said. "I'm glad you like it."

She turned to smile at him, squeezing his hand before releasing it. "How could anyone _not_ like this?"

"I know, right?" he agreed, opening his water bottle to take several gulps.

"So how many people know about this place?" she asked curiously.

"Not many," he said, taking a mental tally. "Me. My parents, because they were worried about where I was disappearing to. Matt. My cousin Ben, but he doesn't really count because he lives in Oregon. And now you."

It took her a second to absorb the information. "That's hardly anyone, Mike. Thank you for sharing it with me."

He nodded slowly. "You're welcome. I thought you would like it, and would also understand me not wanting everyone to know about it. Plus I like to come here after a bad day, and I know your day wasn't exactly the best." _That's an understatement._

"Well, yes. I still want to thank you for bringing me here, though. It means a lot to me," she said softly.

He smiled at her, glad he had followed his instinct and brought her here. "You're welcome," he repeated.

"Your favourite place in Lima is really wonderful. I'm afraid _my_ favourite place here pales in comparison."

"Well, not everyone can be as awesome as I am," he said teasingly. "But, tell me, what's your favourite place in Lima."

She shook her head, laughing. "It's embarrassing to admit out loud, I can't tell you."

"Aww, come on. You have to tell me!"

"It sounds ridiculous when I say it out loud," she said, refusing to budge. "But maybe I'll show you sometime."

"Alright. I'm going to hold you to that, you know," he said. "But in the meantime. . . let's continue with the 'favourites' theme. What's your favourite colour?"

"Blue," she replied without hesitation. "Yours?"

"Red. Favourite food?"

They continued in that vein for almost ten minutes, and learned a lot about each other that they had not previously suspected. They shared a love for Oreo milkshakes, but neither liked to just eat the cookies. He was surprised to learn that her current favourite song was Two Steps Behind by Def Leppard, but not at _all_ shocked that her favourite class so far was a music theory class she had taken at the community college the previous summer. She discovered that his favourite movie was Snatch (when he found out she hadn't seen it he was _horrified_), and was gratified to learn that his favourite song from Glee was her rendition of Don't Rain on My Parade. They both loved soccer, and preferred dogs to cats.

They were laughing after Rachel admitted that her new favourite after school activity was playing video games with him, when Mike finally looked at his watch. "We should probably get going now, my mom is expecting us home pretty soon."

"Alright, let's go," she nodded.

He turned on the radio when they got back in the car, and they caught the end of Seven Nation Army. They exchanged a smile when they heard the next song start playing. She turned up the volume, and they started to sing along as he drove.

_This ain't a song for the broken hearted  
No silent prayer for the faith departed  
I ain't gonna be just a face in the crowd  
You're gonna hear my voice when I shout it out loud_

_It's my life  
It's now or never  
I ain't gonna live forever  
I just wanna live when I'm alive_

_It's my life  
My heart is like an open highway  
Like Frankie said I did it my way  
I just wanna live while I'm alive  
Cause it's my life_

_This is for the ones who stood their ground  
For Tommy and Gina, who never backed down  
Tomorrow's gettin' harder make no mistake  
Luck ain't even lucky gotta make your own breaks_

_It's my life  
And it's now or never  
I ain't gonna live forever  
I just wanna live while I'm alive  
It's my life  
My heart is like an open highway  
Like Frankie said, "I did it my way"  
I just wanna live while I'm alive  
'Cause it's my life_

_You better stand tall  
When they're calling you out  
Don't bend, don't break  
Baby, don't back down_

She turned the volume back down when the song ended and beamed over at him. "Every time I hear that song now, I always think of you guys performing your mash-up."

He laughed. "That was really fun to do, even if I never want to feel that wired again."

"Oh, God," she groaned. "Don't remind me. I'm still not sure how we managed to pull _our_ mash-up together."

"You guys did great. You were like Energizer bunnies in yellow dresses," he teased. "Plus you hit that ridiculous note at the end of the whole thing!"

She grimaced a little at the recollection. "Of _course_ I hit my note," she scoffed. "But regardless of how well we performed, I have no desire to be that hyper ever again."

They continued to discuss Glee and their previous performances until they reached Mike's house. They were met by the smell of something baking, and after they took their shoes off at the door, he called to his mother. "Mom, we're back!"

"I'm in the kitchen, kids!" she responded. They went to say hi and refill their water bottles, and she asked them how the class was as she stirred a pot of something on the stove.

"It was good. Pretty basic stuff, but it was just the first class, so hopefully it will get more challenging as we go on," shrugged Mike. "What are you baking?"

"Lemon meringue pie. I thought I remembered Rachel saying she liked it, was I right dear?"

"Oh! Yes, I do like lemon meringue pie, but you didn't have to make it just for me!"

Mike looked at her like she was crazy. "Quiet, you. It's _lemon meringue pie_. Do you know how often my mom makes dessert? Like, _never_. If she's going to start doing this every time you come over for dinner, you're never eating at your house again!"

Lisa laughed and lightly swatted at her son. "Don't listen to him, Rachel, he's not serious." She shot him a reproachful look when he mumbled _that's what you think_. "Now, before I forget, did you call your dads to let them know you won't be home for dinner?"

"Oh," Rachel said, surprised. "No, but my fathers are in San Francisco at the moment. It would have been just me at home anyway."

Lisa frowned and set the spoon she was holding onto a plate on the counter. "Do you mean to tell me that you are staying at home _by yourself_ while your fathers are in another state?"

"Yes. But, as I was telling Mike earlier, I am quite used to this state of affairs. Dad and daddy are often away and leave me home by myself."

Mike's eyes widened in alarm when he saw his mother purse her lips and start muttering under her breath. He didn't hear all of it, but he caught _men_ and _teenaged daughter_ and _what are they thinking_. That was enough for him, and he grabbed Rachel's hand and edged back out of the kitchen.

"Um, Mike?" she whispered, looking at him in confusion. "What's going on?"

"My mother. That's what's going on," he said. He tried to clarify his statement when he realized that it would mean nothing to Rachel. "I don't know exactly what she's doing, but you can bet she's _not_ going to let you stay home alone while your dads are away."

"That's preposterous! I am perfectly capable of taking care of myself. Besides, my fathers are out of town far too often for her to. . . do whatever it is that she's doing."

He sighed. "Well, go ahead and tell her that, but I don't know if it will do you any good."

She frowned. "Come on." They returned to the kitchen, where Lisa appeared to have calmed down somewhat.

"Rachel, you cannot possibly stay by yourself in that house while your fathers are gone," she said, waving her wooden spoon for emphasis. "You're an attractive young girl, and you never know what could happen. It's just not safe."

"I promise you, I am perfectly safe at home. We have a very good alarm system, our neighbourhood is quite safe, and I am also proficient in Aikido and Tae Kwon Do," Rachel said calmly. "When my fathers started going out of town as much as they do now, they made the deliberate decision to let me stay home by myself. Having me stay with someone while they're out of town would be highly impractical because it happens so often. The same goes for having someone stay at the house with me; they would practically have to move in. I assure you, it was not a decision my fathers arrived at lightly."

Mike narrowed his eyes a little as Rachel delivered what sounded suspiciously like a well-rehearsed speech. Her tone was light, but he saw the way she cast her eyes downward when she mentioned how often her fathers were away. _I'll have to ask her about that later_. His mother, though, was only aware of Rachel's unexpectedly logical explanation, and could only sigh. "Okay. I can see that your family thought this through, but are you really sure you're comfortable staying by yourself?"

"It's really not a problem," Rachel told her.

"Well. . . if you're sure. But honey, if you _ever_ need anything, or there's any kind of problem when your dads are gone, you just call me, okay?"

"Thank you, I will. I promise."

"Good. Now, I know you're perfectly comfortable staying home alone, but I'd like you to stay here tonight, just for my peace of mind.

Mike rolled his eyes at this development, because _seriously_, his mother was being a little crazy. "Really mom? Why is one night going to make a difference? It's not going to magically change the fact that she'll be home alone the rest of the time her dads are away."

"It will help _my_ peace of mind, Mike," she said archly. "Things always seem better in the morning than at night, so I'm sure tomorrow morning I'll be more comfortable with the idea of Rachel staying by herself. But in the meantime, indulge my mother hen side. You will stay, won't you?" she asked, turning to Rachel.

"Please don't feel it is necessary for you to take me in. As I said, I am perfectly comfortable staying by myself."

"Yes, I know. But please do stay for the night, I'll feel better knowing you're here instead of in your house alone."

"I don't know," she hesitated, glancing at Mike.

"It's cool Rach," he shrugged, knowing his mother wouldn't give in. "I can drive you back to your house to pick up a change of clothes and whatever else you need."

"Okay, if you're sure about this . . ."

"Positive," insisted Lisa.

"Alright. In that case, thank you for having me."

"You're welcome. Now, why don't you and Mike go get your things. The pie's almost done, but then I need to put in the lasagna, so you have plenty of time."

"Will do, mom. Come on," said Mike, placing his hand at Rachel's back and propelling her back to the front door.

Once they were both in the car, he looked over at her, sure he knew what she was thinking. "Before you have a chance to say that you're sorry for imposing or something equally ridiculous, let me pre-empt you. It's _fine_. It's not imposing if you're _invited_. I don't mind at all that you're staying at my house, and clearly neither does my mother. So don't worry about it, okay?"

She stared at him, surprised that he could read her that well. "I suppose I can try," she finally said.

"Good. Besides," he added mischievously as he started the engine, "this way you can help me with my history homework. _And _we can play more Gears of War!"

She laughed at him, shaking her head.

"Do you want me to come in with you?" he asked when they reached her house a few minutes later.

"You might as well. It will most likely take me some time to organize my things and ascertain exactly what I need for tonight. There is no need for you to sit in the car while I do so."

"Okay," he said, following her into the house, where she promptly disarmed the alarm system.

"Come on up," she said, gesturing for him to follow her up the stairs. She pushed open the door to her bedroom and crossed over to her desk, where she pulled out a pad of paper and a pen.

"What are you doing?" he asked curiously.

"Making a list of the things I need," she said matter-of-factly as she started to write. "Would you mind getting a bag out of my closet for me? When you walk in, there should be a black athletic bag on the left-hand side, on the top shelf. It should suffice as an overnight bag."

"No problem," he replied, walking over to her closet. A few seconds later, he emerged with the bag in hand, a strange expression on his face.

"Rach?"

"Hmm?"

"Why are there pom poms in this bag?"

"Oh, my cousin in California sent me those the summer before high school, when I was thinking about trying out for the Cheerios," she said nonchalantly, not even bothering to look up from her list. "You can take them out and put them back in the closet."

Mike's eyebrows shot up. "The summer before high school, when you _what_?"

"When I was thinking about trying out for the Cheerios," she repeated patiently. "Alexa is a couple years older than me, and she's a cheerleader. She thought that with my dance experience I would do well, and that I would enjoy it."

"What happened?" he asked, hardly believing his ears.

This time she did look up at him, raising an eyebrow. "Two words. _Puck_ and _slushy_."

"Oh. Right," he winced.

"Indeed," she said wryly. "I was the laughingstock of the school that day, and I lost track of how many times Cheerios made fun of me. Needless to say, I never tried out, let alone made it onto the squad."

"That sucks," he said sincerely.

She shrugged. "Not as much as the rest of my high school career has."

He looked down uncomfortably. "I'm sorry."

"Me too," she said simply.

He frowned, hating that she was so accepting of the way people at McKinley have treated her, and added it to the list of things he wanted to talk to her about at some point. _I wonder what she would be like if the slushy craze had never been started. _For the time being though, all he did was watch as she got up and started gathering things from her dresser drawers and closet.

"Ready?" he asked when she had packed her bag.

"I believe so. If I've forgotten anything I can always walk back here later."

"_Rach_," he said, rolling his eyes. "My mother was scared to let you stay alone in a house in one of the safest neighbourhoods in Lima, even though you apparently practice two martial arts—which, by the way, is _totally _kickass, and _why_ did I not know this about you before?—and have an alarm system. You really think she'll let you walk home alone in the dark?"

"Hmm. You may have a point. Maybe I should take my car back to your place?"

"Don't be ridiculous, no need for two cars when we're both going to the same place tomorrow morning. If you forget something you really need, I'll just drive you back here."

"Oh. Well, thanks."

When they got back to Mike's house, his mom directed them to put her things in Mike's room for the time being. She set her bag and backpack down at the foot of his bed and perched on his dark blue comforter.

"Want to play more Gears?"

"I need to do my math homework first, and finish reading Othello for English. I'm sure you have homework as well," she said reprovingly. "I believe you mentioned something about history?"

He made a face—really, she _wanted_ to do homework?—but pulled his history textbook out of his backpack and settled at his desk. Rachel got out her math textbook and notebook and settled cross-legged on Mike's bed. They worked silently for almost half an hour before they heard his mom calling them down for dinner.

"Thank _God_," muttered Mike, snapping his book shut with vigor. Because really, who wants to do homework _before_ playing video games?

Rachel laughed at him as they got up and headed down the stairs. "Oh, stop being so dramatic. It's not that bad. And think of it this way, if we finish our homework early, we'll be able to play video games without feeling guilty about our work hanging over our heads."

"Yeah, yeah. And seriously, _you're_ calling _me_ dramatic? _Really_?" he teased.

"Hush. My dramatics are _called for_," she huffed. He snickered disbelievingly. "Fine. They're called for _most_ of the time," she conceded as they sat down at the table.

Dinner passed by quickly. Rachel was slowly becoming more comfortable being around Mike's family, and was fairly relaxed by the end of the meal. After helping to clear the table, they returned to Mike's room to finish their homework. Rachel quickly finished the last of the problems on her math assignment, and dug out her copy of Othello.

An hour later, Mike finished his history homework and shoved his textbook and notebook back into his backpack. "Okay, enough for the night," he said, getting up to pluck the paperback from Rachel's hands.

"Hey! I was reading that," she protested.

He rolled his eyes. "Rachel, I'm _in_ your English class, remember? And we only have to finish reading the play by _next_ week."

"I like to have my homework completed ahead of time, you know that. Besides, what else are we going to do?"

"Gears of War. You're going to master the Hammer of Dawn," he grinned.

Try as she might, she couldn't hold back the smile. "Okay, fine."

"Really? I didn't think you'd give in that easily!"

"Do you want to play the game, or do you want to do more homework?" she asked, setting her hands on her hips.

"Let's go downstairs and set it up," he said hastily.

"That's what I thought," she laughed.

When she finally did master the Hammer of Dawn and killed the Berserker without any help from Mike, she actually _squealed_. He laughed, because if he hadn't seen it with his own eyes, he would never have believed that Rachel Berry would be so enthralled by a video game.

They played for almost an hour longer before Rachel made him turn the console off. "I'm tired," she yawned. "Where should I sleep?"

"The guest room upstairs should be fine. At the top of the stairs, it's the room right before mine. Come on, I'll show you," he said. He led her to the room, which was small but tastefully decorated in cream and deep blue. "It has its own bathroom, but just in case, you can always use the one across the hall from my room."

"Thanks."

"No problem. I'm going to go turn off the lights downstairs, but make yourself comfortable."

She walked over to his room, grabbed her things and moved them to the guest room. By the time Mike returned, she was already dressed in her pyjamas, with a sweatshirt pulled on over her tank top. He popped his head in to say good night, then returned to his room. He had just changed his t-shirt and stripped down to his boxers when he heard a knock on his door. When he opened it, Rachel was standing on the other side.

"I'm sorry to disturb you, but there are no towels in the guest room bathroom. Also, I wanted to ask what time you normally leave for school."

"Oh, right. I was planning on leaving tomorrow around 7:30. And I guess I should have checked about the towels. Sorry about that. I'll go grab you a couple."

"Okay. Thank you," she said as Mike left to get towels from the linen closet in the hall. He returned shortly with a face towel and bath towel neatly folded and stacked together.

"Here you go," he said, holding them out to her. "Need anything else?"

"No, that was all."

"Okay. Well, good night then."

She nodded, but then closed the space between them and slipped her arms around him in a hug. "Thank you for everything you did for me today, Mike," she said quietly.

He wrapped his arms around the petite girl, tightening his hold on her when he heard the vulnerability in her voice. "You're welcome. Like I said earlier, this is what friends are for, okay?"

"Okay," she murmured. She leaned into him a little more, savouring the simple human comfort of his embrace for a few seconds longer before pulling back.

"Night Rach," he said, raising a hand to gently tuck a stray piece of hair back behind her ear. "Sweet dreams."

"You too," she responded softly. As she shut his door behind her and returned to the guest room, she was a little dazed at having a friend that seemed to truly care about her, but couldn't hold back the slight smile that played at the corners of her mouth.


	5. Chapter 5

_**A/N: **__As always, thanks to everyone for reading! The response to this has been so much more than I thought it would be. I am so glad people are enjoying the story._

_In the interest of full disclosure, you should know that I will be unable to access the internet as of Friday night. I do plan to keep writing, I just won't be able to post any updates until I'm back in Boston at the end of August.  
_

_**Disclaimed.**_

_**

* * *

**_

It had been a long time since Rachel had spent the night at someone else's house, and she woke up disoriented when the alarm on her Blackberry went off at 5:30. It only took a few moments to recognize her surroundings, but she remained in bed until she came fully awake before hopping up to change into her running clothes. Normally she would have worked out on her elliptical, but she realized it wasn't exactly standard for most people to have one so she had decided to go for a run instead.

It wasn't until she had tied her shoelaces and was halfway down the stairs that it dawned on her that she didn't have a key to lock the house behind her, and she didn't want to leave the Changs' home unlocked. Frowning, she went to grab a bottle of water from the kitchen while she decided what to do. _I would hate to wake Michael up this early to ask for his key. Maybe I should just do some yoga instead?_

Deciding she should just stick to yoga this morning, she turned to leave the kitchen and abruptly bumped into someone she recognized as Mike as she started to fall backwards. He reached out to steady her, his hands staying firmly at her waist until she was stable on her feet.

"Morning Rach," he said, eyes twinkling.

"Good morning," she responded, cheeks flushing pink. "I apologize for walking into you like that. I was not expecting anyone else to be up at this time."

"Don't worry about it. I run in the mornings, and I was just getting a glass of water before I left. I guess you were going to work out too?" he said, taking in her capri running leggings and running shoes. "Donovan, huh?" he laughed, seeing the soccer jersey she was wearing.

"Of course! You know he's a fantastic player," she smiled, reaching up to adjust her ponytail. "I'm glad you're awake, actually. I had stupidly forgotten that I do not have a key to your house to lock up if I went running. I was on my way up to do yoga in the guest room when I ran into you."

"Good thing we bumped into each other then," he said. "We can go together. How far do you usually run?"

"I don't, actually. Usually I work out on my elliptical, but I do run sometimes. I didn't want to go too far or too long, maybe thirty or forty minutes. Four or five miles? Is that too short for you? I can go further if you want, but I'll warn you I'm out of running shape."

He stared at her in surprise. "That's your pace when you're out of shape for running? Not bad, Rach."

She shrugged, although she was pleased at his reaction. "I _am_ in shape generally speaking, it's just that running is not part of my normal exercise routine."

He grinned, knowing that she was probably being modest because come on, it was _Rachel_. If she was going to exercise, of _course_ she was going to keep herself in top shape. She didn't halfass _anything_. He looped his arm through hers and pulled her out the door. "Come on, let's go."

She followed his lead as they ran through streets of the neighbourhood, into the park and around the pond there, down her street and past the middle school soccer field before looping back towards his house. They slowed to a walk, and when they reached his home they took a seat on the bench on his front porch.

"Good run," she said, her face flushed red from the exercise.

"Yeah," he replied, wiping sweat from his forehead. "Gotta say, for someone that claims not to be in good shape for running, you don't seem to have had much trouble."

"Well, I admit that I don't run regularly, but I do practice dance, yoga and martial arts in addition to my elliptical workouts," she smiled.

"Yeah. Speaking of, how long have you been doing martial arts? I had no idea you did Aikido and Taekwondo!"

"Hmm, about six years now. I have black belts in both, but only practice a few times a month now. Dad and daddy felt that it was important for me to know how to defend myself if it ever became necessary."

"Oh," he said, dumbstruck at discovering that the glee diva was a double black belt. _Rachel Berry_ and _black belt_ just didn't belong in the same sentence, like, at _all_. "That's pretty kickass, Rach."

"Um . . . thank you?"

"You're welcome," he chuckled. Then something occurred to him, and he frowned at her. "You have a black belt in _two _martial arts. Howcome you never just stood up to everyone slushying you?"

"I studied for defensive purposes. In any case, I believe physically attacking someone would be an overreaction to getting slushied."

"Bullshit," said Mike, giving her a pointed look. "Maybe it would have been an overreaction the first couple times, _maybe_, but now? How many times _have_ you been slushied, Rach?"

"I don't know," she admitted, looking down at her feet. "I stopped counting after number fifty."

He felt a pang of guilt when he saw how upset she suddenly looked, and placed his arm around her shoulders. "Exactly. Don't you think that standing up to them might help?"

She sighed, looking at him with sad brown eyes. "I appreciate the thought, Mike, and believe me, I _have_ thought about standing up to them in such a fashion. But people at school are not cruel to me because of my lack of retaliation. People are cruel to me because I'm different, because I don't conform to any of the stereotypes of what a high school girl should be like, because I'm unpopular, because I'm . . . well, _me_. And that isn't going to change even if I do stand up to them."

He had no response to that, because he knew it was true, but that didn't mean he had to like it. "I guess. I still wish there were some way to get them to stop, though."

"I do too."

"Yeah. Anyway, let's go get some water," he said, pulling them both to their feet but keeping his arm around her.

"And a shower?" she said, cocking her head at him and wrinkling her nose a little.

He laughed, lifting the hand on her shoulder to ruffle the top of her head. "Yeah. And a shower."

"Hey!" she complained in mock outrage. "You messed up my ponytail!"

He smirked at her as they reached the kitchen and he tossed her the water bottle she had left on the counter. "Yup," he agreed. She smacked him lightly on his arm, but couldn't help the snort that escaped.

"Good morning you two," said Lisa in amusement. They started when they heard her voice, not having realized she was at the kitchen table with the newspaper and a cup of coffee.

"Morning mom," said Mike as he pulled a bottle of water out of the fridge for himself.

"Good morning Lisa," said Rachel.

"I see you went with Mike on his run?" Lisa asked, smiling.

"Yes, I did. Oh! I must look like a mess," Rachel said, blushing.

Mike rolled his eyes. "We just ran five miles. Of course you don't look completely put together, that would be weird. Besides, I'm glad you're not one of those girls that insist on putting on makeup and styling their hair before they work out. I just do _not_ understand that."

"That does seem to be entirely counterproductive," she stated. "Unless it's for a performance of some sort, of course, but I hardly think daily exercise falls into that category. In any case, although this is one area where practicality wins out over my perfectionist personality, it does not necessarily mean that I _want_ people to see me right after a workout when I am undoubtedly sweaty and unattractive."

"You're always hot, Rach," Mike said without thinking. He froze when he realized what he had said, and flushed slightly.

Rachel stared at him wide-eyed in astonishment. "Thank you, Michael," she said slowly.

"My son said something sensible for once. You are a beautiful young lady," broke in Lisa, who looked as though she was holding back a smile. "And I suspect you want to protest, but you should both go get ready for school now."

Mike shot his mother a grateful look when her words distracted Rachel from his comment. "Oh! You are correct, I should really go get in the shower and get dressed before finding something to eat for breakfast." She paused for a second, embarrassed at her presumption. "That is, if you don't mind me eating your food?"

"Of course not dear, make yourself at home. You know where everything is anyway," replied Lisa.

"Thank you. I will be back down shortly, but in case you are no longer here at that time, thank you very much for having me at your home. It was very nice of you to extend the invitation to stay here," said Rachel.

"Not at all. You're welcome here anytime," replied Lisa affectionately. She had only known of Rachel as the star of the New Directions at the beginning of the year when her son joined the club, but had grown genuinely fond of the teenaged brunette in the short time since that first dinner.

Rachel opened her mouth as if to speak, but then Mike, having regained his composure, poked her in the side. "Stop thanking us. It's fine. C'mon, let's go get ready for school."

"Fine, fine," she said, smiling apologetically at Lisa before following him up the stairs. Twenty minutes later she was dressed and just starting to repack her belongings in her overnight bag when she heard a knock on the door. "Come in," she called.

"Hey," said Mike, walking in and plopping down on the bed. "So I don't know what you usually have for breakfast, but my mom drank the last of the coffee and I like to have a cup in the morning. Any chance we can leave a few minutes early and stop at Starbucks on the way to school?"

"Of course. You hardly need to ask, you are my ride to school after all, and there's not much I can do if you decide to leave early. Other than walk to school, of course, or perhaps to my house first to get my car, and then—"

"Whoa there. You don't honestly think I would just take off and leave you here if you didn't want coffee, do you?"

She frowned at him. "I suppose not, but I was merely pointing out to you some of the options available."

He chuckled at her as she zipped her bag shut. "Okay, well, let's cut this short then. We're going to Starbucks before school. Now, the only question is whether you want to grab a pastry or something there, or eat here and just get coffee there."

"Whatever you prefer."

"Okay. Let's get something to eat there, then."

"Alright. What time do you want to leave, then?"

"Um . . . let's say 7:00? That should give us plenty of time to eat and stuff."

"Michael!" she gasped. "That's in just a few minutes!"

"Yeah, so?" he said, confused at her reaction.

She glared at him. "That's barely enough time to do my breathing exercises! And I certainly won't have the time to dry my hair!"

He looked at her uncertainly. "We _could_ just stay here, you know."

"No, no, it's fine," she grumbled. "I'll just do my breathing exercises then meet you downstairs."

"Okay, if you're sure . . ."

She sighed before smiling at him reassuringly. "It's okay. _Really_," she added, seeing him still hesitating.

"Alright," he said, getting up. "Meet you downstairs!"

She walked down the stairs ten minutes later carrying her backpack and overnight bag, which he promptly took from her. "I already put my stuff in the car," he said.

After saying goodbye to Mike's parents and younger brother they walked out to the car, where he tossed Rachel's bags into the backseat. A few minutes later they pulled into the parking lot of the nearest Starbucks and hopped out of the car. Thankfully the line inside wasn't very long, and they were placing their orders in no time.

"I'll have a venti cappuccino, a croissant, and this," said Mike, placing a container of fruit on the counter. "Rach?"

"May I please have a grande soy latte and a lowfat blueberry muffin?" She reached into her purse to pull out a few bills, but Mike had paid the cashier before she got the money out of her wallet. "Thank you Mike, that was really not necessary," she said as he ushered her to an empty table by the window.

"You're welcome," he said as they sat down. "So, what do you think of this week's Glee assignment?"

"It should be interesting, and I am always in favour of expanding my musical repertoire. Hopefully we'll be able to get some new songs for our setlist from it. I still have to decide on some artists to suggest to Noah before we meet this afternoon, though."

He nodded in understanding. "Yeah, I'm not really sure what to suggest to Mercedes. I'll have to scroll through my iPod at lunch or something for ideas." Just then their order was called, and he stood to go get their drinks. "Sugar?"

"No thank you," she shook her head.

"Hey, you know what would be fun?" he said when he returned. "We should have an all day video game marathon this weekend. You, me, Matt, Puck and Finn. Artie too, he's a master at Gears of War. What do you think?"

"It sounds like it would be a lot of fun, but wouldn't it be peculiar for me to be the only female there? That really sounds like a male bonding session, even more so than this past weekend was."

"Oh," he said, scrunching his nose a little. "You might be right. Well, what if we made it an all Glee thing? Video games, movies, the works?"

"That _would_ be fun," she admitted. "We haven't had a Glee get together in a while."

"Excellent! Now we just need to figure out where it should be . . ." he trailed off, giving Rachel his best puppy dog face.

She laughed at his expression. "Gee, why don't we have it at my house Michael?"

"That is a _brilliant_ idea Rach!" he grinned.

"Yes, I know. You only like me for my television," she teased.

"Or your game room," he joked. "Seriously, have you _seen_ the TV in there? It's _enormous_. And how many people have a full size pool table in their house?"

"Yes, I believe we have already established that you are in love with the game room in my home," she said dryly. "The first time you saw it I think you spent an hour in there just opening all the cabinets and going through the DVDs and things."

"Hey, it's not every day I find out a friend of mine has basically every movie on the planet," he said defensively.

"No need to exaggerate. Our collection is quite large, but it hardly consists of every movie on the planet," she laughed. "Anyway, how does Saturday work?"

"Perfect," he said before downing the last of his cappuccino. Rachel had long since finished her latte and muffin. "Alright, let's go."

The morning passed by uneventfully, and it was lunchtime before she knew it. She and Kurt walked out of the chemistry class they shared with Matt, when she heard someone calling her name.

"Rachel! Wait up," called Matt as he jogged down the hall. She and Kurt stopped to wait for their teammate, who soon caught up to them. "I talked to Mike earlier. He said we're getting together at your place on Saturday?"

"That is the plan, yes. Come over anytime," she said, ignoring the way Kurt was gawking at her. "But I was thinking about making breakfast for anyone that wanted to come over in the morning, so if you want French toast, come by around 10:00," she said as they walked into the cafeteria.

"Cool," grinned Matt. "If you're offering to feed me, I'm there. Breakfast at my house on Saturday usually consists of cereal or leftover pizza, whatever I can scrounge up. So if you're making breakfast, count me in."

"French toast? You're making your French toast?" said Kurt hopefully.

She laughed. "Yes, Kurt. I was going to tell everyone at Glee when we're all together, but apparently Mike did not see fit to wait that long. I am inviting you all to my house on Saturday to play video games, watch movies and the like. And as you just heard, if you would like to come over for breakfast you are welcome to do so."

"And you promise you're going to make your French toast?"

"I promise."

"Um, is there something about your French toast that I should know?" interjected a baffled Matt.

"Only that our diva makes the best French toast _ever_," said Kurt. "You'll see."

They sat down together and unpacked their lunches. It was common now for the original gleeks to have lunch with the Cheerio and jock members, and people at school had long since stopped commenting on it. A few minutes later the whole club was there, chatting about Glee and school.

"Hey, you want me to bring any games to your place on Saturday?" asked Matt after he finished his sandwich.

Overhearing the question, Mike nudged her from his seat on her left. "Oh yeah, that reminds me. I can't remember how many controllers you have, do you need me to bring extras?"

"Feel free to bring any games you like, Matt. And I only have two controllers, Mike, so it would probably be a good idea for you to bring two more," she replied. She picked up her bottle of water to take a sip, and noticed that everyone except for Mike, Matt and Kurt were staring at her.

Puck finally spoke up. "Another round of gaming, Berry?"

"As I was telling Kurt, I was planning to tell you all at Glee this afternoon, but I might as well tell you now. Mike and I thought it would be fun to get together for a day this weekend, so you are all invited to my house on Saturday. Come over anytime, but if you want breakfast be there around 10:00."

"You and Mike?" questioned Finn, confused.

"We're friends," shrugged Mike, saving her from answering the question. Although she had accepted that Finn and Quinn had gotten back together and was no longer pursuing him, she would be lying if she said that she had no lingering feelings for the quarterback.

Quinn shot her a sympathetic look. To everyone's surprise, the two girls had become close over the past few months. A bond had sprung up between them after the day Quinn had complained about having cravings for chocolate, and Rachel had wordlessly handed over a small container of double chocolate chip cookies from her lunch bag. Every day since then, Rachel had brought some form of chocolate to give to the pregnant girl at lunch. Today was no exception. "Thanks, Rachel," said Quinn as the brunette gave her a bag of dark chocolate covered orange slices. "I'll definitely be there on Saturday."

"Uh, I guess that means I'll be there too?" said Finn uncertainly.

They all laughed when Quinn jabbed him in the ribs and said, "Yes, you'll be there."

Everyone quickly agreed to come over on Saturday, and soon they were discussing which movies they should watch and what else they could do. "You can all bring swimsuits if you want," offered Rachel. "The pool is probably still too cold, but there's always the hot tub."

"You have a hot tub?" squealed Brittany. Rachel nodded.

"Nice, Berry," smirked Santana. "Now I have an excuse to buy that bikini I saw at the mall last weekend."

"You already have a bikini, San," said Brittany, twirling the ends of her ponytail around her fingers.

Santana smiled patiently at the blonde. "I know, Brit, but I want to get another one."

The rest of the lunch period passed by quickly, and before she knew it Rachel found herself walking to English with Mike. "You know, you could bring your whole system over instead of just the controllers," she said thoughtfully. "We could hook it up to the TV in the family room, and that way more people can play at a time. What do you think?"

"Sounds great," he said enthusiastically.

She nodded. "We could even bring that TV into the game room so everyone could hang out in the same place. There is plenty of space there, after all."

"True that. Why do you have such a big game room, anyway?"

She sighed. "Dad and Daddy originally thought the game room would serve well as a place for spending quality time together as a family, so they installed all kinds of ridiculous things there. Dad is very fond of technology and gadgets. They are hardly ever there to put anything in the room to use, though," she said, unable to keep a hint of bitterness from creeping into her voice.

He frowned at her, remembering their conversation from the previous day. "That sucks."

"A little," she replied, pushing back a strand of hair that had fallen out of the messy bun she had piled her hair into that morning in her haste to leave on time. "But it really doesn't bother me as much as it used to."

He looked at her disbelievingly, but didn't push the subject. In the hallway right before class was not the time to have that particular discussion, and they had reached their classroom anyway. Rachel immediately went to her usual seat at the front of the class, while Mike started towards the back where he typically sat with the other jocks. He stopped midway there, though, and surprised Rachel when he came back to the front and dropped his books on the desk next to her with a thud. He could feel the jocks and Cheerios staring at him, but ignored them all. "Friends, remember?" he said when she looked at him curiously.

He was gratified when she smiled up at him, one those rare soft smiles of hers that were so much more real than the huge ones she always wore on stage. He glanced over at her several times throughout the period, and the corners of her lips were always ever so slightly turned upwards. He couldn't help grinning back at her whenever she caught him looking at her, and every time it made her laugh softly under her breath.

_She should laugh like that more often, she's practically glowing_, he found himself thinking. _She's so pretty when she's this happy._


	6. Chapter 6

_**A/N: **Finally, an update! I had the worst case of writer's block for this chapter. I started, deleted, and restarted the stupid thing six times. Six! But, here it is, and I hope you all enjoy it. _

_I sincerely apologize if you reviewed this story and I did not reply to you. I promise to be better in the future! I continue to be amazed by the wonderful response to this story, and want to thank everyone for reading it, particularly those of you who have left reviews or added it to your story alerts and favourites lists. Thank you all!_

_Consider this **disclaimed**: I own neither Glee nor the song We Belong by Pat Benatar._

* * *

After lunch, Puck spent the rest of the school day wondering three things.

First, how in the fuck did he not know that Berry had a hot tub? He'd had the opportunity to get her in a bikini and he hadn't even _known _it. That shit can't be kosher. It should be some kind of rule that when you date someone you have to tell them if you have a hot tub at your house.

Second, since when did Berry start inviting people over for _fun_? Sure, she's had people over before to work on things for Glee, but _never_ just to hang out. He has a sneaking suspicion that the change has something to do with Chang.

Which brings him to the third point. What the _fuck_ was going on with Chang inviting people to _Berry's _house? No, seriously. Why are they suddenly doing shit like that together?

It didn't help when he went to Glee at the end of the day and found Mike sitting to her left, leaning towards her as she laughed at something the tall Asian was saying. The rest of the club was still trickling in, so he made his way over to the pair, sitting behind them and grunting in greeting as he dropped his bookbag to the floor.

"Noah!" she chirped, turning towards him. "Are you prepared to work on the Glee assignment after rehearsal today?"

"Sure Berry," he nodded. "As long as you understand there's no way in hell you can get me to sing Streisand."

She rolled her eyes. "I had not planned to suggest it. I do have some ideas for you, but none of them involve Babs."

"Excellent," he drawled. "Now, what I'm really interested in is this weekend. What games do you have?"

"Noah! Glee is very important, and you should take this assignment seriously! It could very well result in new songs for our setlist!" she huffed indignantly.

"Yeah, yeah," he muttered, turning to Mike. "Chang, do you know what games she has?"

Both boys laughed at the brunette's outrage at being talked over. "As far as I know, right now she only has Halo," grinned Mike. "Right?"

At her chagrinned nod, Puck started mentally cataloguing his games at home. "What games are you bringing?" he asked.

"Actually, I—" Mike started, before being cut off by Matt entering the rehearsal room and walking over to greet them.

"Sup guys," he said, taking a seat next to Puck.

"Hello Matt," smiled Rachel as the boys exchanged fist bumps. "Mike and Noah were just discussing what games they would like to bring to my house this weekend."

"Sweet! What are you guys thinking, Gears of War, Call of Duty, the usual?"

Mike nodded. "Yeah, and maybe Rock Band. That's always fun at parties."

"Rock Band?" Rachel perked up at the mention of a game that sounded like it might involve music. "What's that?"

"It's a game where you simulate being in a band, and play along to different songs," explained Matt. "With the full setup there's someone playing the guitar, bass, and drums, along with someone singing. It's pretty fun."

"That sounds like it would be very enjoyable. And how appropriate for a New Directions gathering!" exclaimed Rachel in delight.

"Okay, I'll bring that over then. My brother broke the second guitar the last time he was home from college, though, so can one of you bring one?" Mike looked between Puck and Matt questioningly.

"Sure dude, I got it," Puck said obligingly.

"Excellent, so we have games covered, then," said Matt.

"Yeah," nodded Mike. "Also, Rach and I were talking earlier and I'm going to bring my whole console over to hook up to another TV, so we still need one of you to bring two controllers."

"I can do that, but do you really think we're going to get eight people to want to play the same game?" Matt said curiously.

Mike shrugged. "Maybe not, although that would be pretty awesome. But it'll be good in case people want to play two different games at the same time, too."

They continued to plan for the weekend until Mr. Schuester called them to order and started handing out sheet music. "Okay everyone, let's give this one a shot. Rachel and Finn, you're on leads."

Finn moved to stand next to the piano, but Rachel frowned slightly when she looked down at the music in her hands, glancing over at Quinn for a moment before raising her hand. "Mr. Schue, are you sure about this?"

"Come on guys, this is a great song! Just give it a try Rachel," he replied, one of his goofy smiles a clear indication that he couldn't see any problem.

"Fine," she sighed, standing up and nodding to the musicians to begin playing the opening notes.

_Many times I've tried to tell you  
__Many times I've cried alone  
__Always I'm surprised how well you cut my feelings to the bone_

_Don't wanna leave you really  
__I've invested too much time  
__To give you up that easy  
__To the doubts that complicate my mind_

Puck watched her closely as she sang, trying to figure out if her reluctance to sing had anything to do with her still having feelings for Hudson. Her expression, however, surprised him. It was neither heartbroken nor hopeful. She seemed—annoyed? _What the shit is that about?_ But before he had time to think about it too much, the sound of everyone else singing reminded him that he was supposed to be singing backup in the chorus.

_We belong to the light  
__We belong to the thunder  
__We belong to the sound of the words  
__We've both fallen under_

_Whatever we deny or embrace  
__For worse or for better  
__We belong, we belong  
__We belong together_

He kept his eyes on Rachel when Finn picked up the next part of the song, and was relieved to find that she wasn't staring at his best friend with that infatuated gaze that had been her default expression whenever she looked at Finn at the beginning of the year. _Thank fuck._

_Maybe it's a sign of weakness  
__When I don't know what to say  
__Maybe I just wouldn't know  
__What to do with my strength anyway_

_Have we become a habit?  
__Do we distort the facts?  
__Now there's no looking forward  
__Now there's no turning back  
__When you say_

Puck finally tore his attention away from Rachel and looked around the room as he lifted his voice for the second chorus. Finn was smiling at Quinn, who alternated between smiling back at her boyfriend and looking at Rachel with an amused expression on her face. It looked like she was trying not to laugh at the brunette.

_We belong to the light  
__We belong to the thunder  
__We belong to the sound of the words  
__We've both fallen under_

_Whatever we deny or embrace  
__For worse or for better  
__We belong, we belong  
__We belong together_

Finn and Rachel sang the last two verses together, and Puck continued to look around the room. Quinn still appeared vastly entertained at Rachel's expense, but now Rachel was shooting exasperated looks right back at the former Cheerio, and he couldn't figure out what the hell it was all about.

_Close your eyes and try to sleep now  
__Close your eyes and try to dream  
__Clear your mind and do your best  
__To try and wash the palette clean_

_We can't begin to know it  
__How much we really care  
__I hear your voice inside me  
__I see your face everywhere  
__Still you say_

As he began singing again, he noticed Rachel's aggravated expression transform to one of amusement, a smile gracing her lips as she shook her head slightly at someone. Puck turned his head to follow her line of sight and scowled when he realized she was looking at Mike, who was smiling at her. _What the fuck is it with those two, anyway? Damn._

_We belong to the light  
__We belong to the thunder  
__We belong to the sound of the words  
__We've both fallen under_

_Whatever we deny or embrace  
__For worse or for better  
__We belong, we belong  
__We belong together_

When the last notes died off, Rachel grimaced and threw her hands up in the air, the sheet music she held flying away from her. "Mr. Schue, I _sincerely_ hope that you do not choose this particular song for regionals. Or if you do, that Finn and I do not sing it together. Quinn would sound lovely. Or perhaps Santana? "

Puck's jaw dropped, because did Berry just _give up_ a lead? _Voluntarily_? Clearly he was missing something, because both Quinn and Mike started laughing at the diva's outburst. _The fuck?_

Mr. Schuester, though, seemed to be equally confused. "Rachel, I thought you and Finn did an excellent job! Granted, it was a little rough in spots, but this was just a first run through. I really think this could go over well at regionals."

"I agree that it could make for a great song at regionals," Rachel said through gritted teeth. "I simply feel that it would be for the best, in terms of emotional performance and connecting with the song, if _Finn and I_ weren't singing lead together."

Mike laughed and jumped in when he saw that the teacher still appeared to be puzzled. "I think what Rach is trying to say is that the performance would be better if Finn and his_ girlfriend_ were singing together. More believable, ya know?" He emphasized the word girlfriend lightly, looking back and forth between Finn and Quinn meaningfully.

Mr. Schuester's expression finally cleared at Mike's explanation. "Oh! Well, alright then. You may have a point there. We'll give it another run through with Finn and Quinn, and take it from there."

Rachel sighed in relief, glancing over at Mike gratefully. She nodded to Mr. Schuester before taking a seat next to Quinn, who giggled and said something to her quietly that made her laugh in return, the irritation quickly melting off her face. The blonde then got to her feet and crossed over to stand next to Finn to run through the song again, this time with her as female lead.

By the time they finished tweaking the arrangement to best suit their group, rehearsal was just about over. "Alright everyone," said Mr. Schuester. "Great work today. We don't have rehearsal tomorrow, so I'll see you all on Thursday. If you guys could start blocking out the choreography for this number before then, that would be great. One more time from the top, then you can all go."

After they finished the song, everyone started pulling their things together to leave, naturally gravitating towards their friends. Puck was about to go ask Rachel where she wanted to go to talk about the assignment, when Mike called her over to where he was standing with Matt, Santana and Brittany.

"Hey Rach, are you free tomorrow after school?" asked the Asian boy. "We were thinking of maybe getting together to talk choreography. The four of us usually end up choreographing most of the songs because we have the most dance experience, and since you have a lot too, maybe you want to join us? I don't know why you haven't been helping us all along, now that I'm thinking about it," he frowned. "You have just as much experience as any of us."

Puck rolled his eyes. _Yeah, because it's really like Lopez was going to voluntarily spend time with Berry when she first joined._

Rachel looked at the foursome in surprise. "Oh! That's wonderful of you to ask me, Mike, but I don't know. . ." she trailed off, her eyes flicking to Santana for a moment.

"Chill Berry," Santana said with a smirk. "It's true, you probably should be helping out with the choreography. I think you actually have more experience than I do."

Rachel was not convinced, and looked at Matt and Mike doubtfully. "Are you sure? I mean, while I do have an extensive repertoire, I have never helped with this, and you all have done an excellent job thus far."

"We'd love for you to help us," Matt smiled reassuringly. "Brit and Santana don't bite, I promise. Right?" He gave the two Cheerios a pointed look as Mike stepped closer to Rachel, wrapping a supportive arm around her shoulder. Puck scowled as she leaned into Mike and the Asian boy rubbed her arm comfortingly.

Brittany nodded enthusiastically. "No biting, and I know you can dance because of Glee, and because San has gym with you and she says you're so bendy you could have been a Cheerio, right San?"

Puck's eyes widened at the mental image of Rachel Berry being _bendy—_oh _fuck_ yes—and Santana glared at her best friend as Rachel's mouth fell open. "Let's not get ahead of ourselves," she said. "Look, are you in or out Berry?"

The petite brunette snapped her mouth shut, and after one last look at Matt and Mike, agreed to join them. "Okay. Where were you planning to meet?"

Mike shrugged. "We usually meet at school, either here in the choir room or in the auditorium. There's not really many other places we can meet to figure out the dancing."

"Oh," Rachel said, pursing her lips. "Well, unless you are particularly attached to the idea of meeting at school, I suggest we all meet at my house instead. I have a small dance studio in the back of the house with a built in sound system, and it is much nicer than either the rehearsal room or the auditorium. Plus we wouldn't have to worry about getting kicked out by the janitors."

The small group stared at her in surprise. "You have your own dance studio, Rachel?" Matt asked in astonishment.

"Well, yes," she said defensively. "I have been participating in numerous competitions since I was three, and my fathers eventually became tired of me practicing in the house all the time. Listening to the same music over and over was tiresome, so they converted part of the pool house to a dance space for me."

"That's awesome, Rach," said Mike after he recovered from his surprise. He had been to her house several times, but had never gone into the backyard where the pool and pool house were. "Sounds much better than meeting here, we'll go there for sure."

Brittany and Santana nodded in agreement. "We'll meet at your locker at the end of the day tomorrow and follow you home," Santana stated.

"Okay," said Rachel with a small smile. "I look forward to it, then."

Puck waited patiently as the two Cheerios said their goodbyes, and Matt gave her a friendly wave farewell. "Alright Berry, you ready to work on the assignment?"

"I believe so Noah," she replies. "We can work at my place, if that is acceptable to you."

"Sounds good," he nodded. "Should I follow you there?"

"Um," she hesitated, looking up at Mike, who was still beside her. He shrugged, and she seemed to take more away from the gesture than Puck did because she turned back to Puck and said, "Okay. That's fine."

Puck frowned a little inwardly—_what the fuck is up with Berry and Chang pulling that wordless conversation shit?_—but offered the brunette one of his signature smirks. "Alright, I'll see you at your place then. I just need to grab my shit from my locker, but then I'll drive over."

Fifteen minutes later, Puck pulled into Rachel's driveway, surprised to find that he had arrived before her. Rather than waiting in his truck, he grabbed his backpack and hopped out, going to sit on her front steps. After only a couple minutes, he saw Mike's car come down the street, Rachel and Mike getting out after he parked in front of the house.

"Noah! I am so sorry, have you been waiting long? We had to stop at both of our lockers before we could leave and it took a little longer than I anticipated," apologized Rachel. "Mike was my ride to school this morning."

"No problem, I basically just got here," Puck said as she unlocked the front door. He narrowed his eyes as Mike dropped what looked suspiciously like an overnight bag in front of the coat closet.

"Alright Rach, I gotta go meet Mercedes over at her place now. You okay here?" asked Mike seriously.

Puck rolled his eyes. "What are you, her guard dog?"

Mike ignored his sarcastic comment and locked eyes with Rachel, who smiled at him. "I'll be fine, Mike, thank you for asking."

"Alright then, I'm gonna take off to go meet Mercedes at her place to work on the assignment," Mike said, giving her a brief hug. "Bye Rach, see ya Puck."

"Thank you for the ride," said Rachel. "Say hi to your family for me."

"Bye dude," Puck said as the other boy left. After Rachel had shut the front door, he raised an eyebrow at her.

"What?"

He hid the curiosity that was burning through him behind a smirk. "You know, you two are awfully cozy with each other these days."

"Mike has been a good friend to me for the past few weeks," she acknowledged with a smile.

"Dude, you guys are like, joined at the hip. That's more than just being good friends, Berry."

"Noah! First of all, I am _not_ a dude. Second, we are hardly joined at the hip. I think you will find that he spends more time with you than he does with me, if you take the time to think about it. I believe you are simply used to _no one_ spending time with me." Her expression darkened slightly with that declaration, making him frown. "And finally, we most certainly _are_ just friends," she said as she turned away from him and walked towards the kitchen.

He shook his head in disbelief, trailing after her. When he reached the kitchen she was pulling a bottle of water out of the fridge. "Would you like one?"

"Sure."

"Okay. Now," she said, handing him a bottle, "are you ready to start working on the assignment?"

They spent the next hour and half discussing various artists and songs, but Puck couldn't get her words from earlier out of his head. Finally, he sat up from where he had been laying on the floor and tossing a pillow up and down, and interrupted whatever Rachel was saying about David Gray. "Hey Berry?"

"_Rachel_, Noah. My name is _Rachel_."

"Yeah, yeah. Whatever. You know I don't think of you the same way anymore, right?"

Her brows puckered together in confusion. "What on earth are you talking about?"

"Before. You said that I wasn't used to seeing anyone spending time with you. You made it sound like you think I still think about you as . . . well, you know."

"No, actually, I don't," she said, exasperated. "I have absolutely no clue what you are talking about, Noah."

He glared at her. _Damn. She's actually going to make me spell it out for her._ "I'm just trying to say . . . I don't think of you as a freak or a loser anymore, you know? I don't want you to think I'm still that jerk."

Her expression softened immediately. "I don't think that you're a jerk, Noah. And I know that you no longer see me as just a target for slushies," she smiled.

"Good," he mumbled. "Good. 'Cause you're actually a pretty cool chick. You know, when you're not being all crazy and shit."

She rolled her eyes, but laughed at him. "Only you would think to compliment and insult me in the same breath."

"Whatever," he said gruffly. "The point is, I don't want my friends thinking I'm a crummy person, okay?"

Her smile widened. "We're friends?"

"Yeah," he said, looking at her like she was crazy.

"But that day on the bleachers? You said—"

He exhaled loudly. "I _know_ what I said. I lied, okay? Damn, woman," he grumbled.

"We're really friends?"

"Yeah, Berry, we're really friends."

She laughed again, but didn't press the subject any further, much to his relief. Instead, she shifted back into music mode, asking him what he thought about Frank Sinatra and the Rat Pack. After another half hour of discussing music, they finally had their artists selected.

"Well, that was an excellent day's work, Noah," Rachel said. "Now all we have to do is choose our songs, and then we will be ready to perform."

He nodded as they walked to her front door together. "Sounds about right," he said, pulling his shoes back on. "So I'll see you in school tomorrow?"

She bobbed her head happily. "Yes. Please let me know if I can assist you in any way with your song choice."

"Yeah, sure," he said, opening the door. He looked at her, taking in her shining brown eyes, and before he could think about it too much, leaned down quickly to kiss her on the cheek. "See ya, Berry."

"Um . . . goodbye, Noah," she said, staring at him in astonishment.

_A kiss on the fucking _cheek_? Man the fuck up, Puckerman._

For the first time in his life, though, he ignored the voice in his head that always screamed at him to turn up the sex appeal and charm his way into a girl's pants. Instead, he offered Rachel a lopsided grin before turning and going to get into his truck. He waved as he started the engine, then pulled out of her driveway and went home.

* * *

_**A/N: **Well, there you have it. I hope it turned out okay. Now for a little request for help: I have already picked out some of the songs for the Glee assignment, but am having trouble with selecting them for the entire group. Any suggestions?_


	7. Chapter 7

_**A/N:**__ Ummm… *ducks to avoid flying objects.* Yeah. The two year hiatus was completely unintentional, and I am so incredibly sorry for taking so long to update this story. I won't bore you with excuses, suffice it to say things happen, but I do plan to see this fic through to the finish. I am still not entirely happy with this chapter, but I wanted to get something out to anyone who is still following the story. _

_On another note. You _guys_. This story officially crossed the 100-review line with the last chapter! You guys are absolutely amazing. I cannot tell you how much it means that you all like this story so much. _

_Finally, and unfortunately, Glee is __**not mine**__._

* * *

She waited nervously at her locker at the end of the day, absentmindedly fiddling with the hem of her skirt and staring at the floor. It had been almost twenty minutes since the last bell had signaled the end of the school day, and so far there was no sign of Mike, Matt, Santana or Brittany. She was beginning to think it had all been some kind of joke, another cruel prank to add to the list of humiliations she had suffered in high school, when she heard Matt calling her name.

"Hey, Rachel!" he said cheerfully as he approached.

"Matthew! I'm so glad to see you," she said, relief flooding through her.

"Well, we _did_ agree to meet at your locker, right?" he frowned.

"Oh, of course," she replied quickly. "I was simply not sure whether. . . you know what, never mind."

He tilted his head at her skeptically. "We weren't going to ditch you, Rachel," he said quietly. "Believe it or not, Brit and San are actually decent people most of the time, and I would never do anything like that. Besides, Mike has made it very clear that he would kick all our asses if we mess with you. He's pretty protective of you, you know?"

"Oh," she said, flustered. "Oh. No, I didn't realize. And I'm sorry for thinking the worst, it's just that—"

"You expect what you know? Yeah, I get it. But, listen. For what it's worth, I don't treat people like that, _especially_ not my friends."

"We're friends?" she said shyly.

He grinned. "Yeah, we're friends. Of course we're friends."

She smiled widely. "Wow, twice in as many days," she murmured to herself, recalling Puck's admission from the previous evening.

"What was that?" he said curiously.

"Oh, nothing," she said quickly. Looking past him, she saw Santana and Brittany approaching, just as she felt a presence behind her.

"Hey Rach, Matt," Mike said, dropping his hand to his side after pressing it briefly to the small of her back in greeting.

"Hi," Rachel responded with a smile as the boys bumped fists.

"Hey guys!" smiled Brittany as she and the Latina came up to the trio. "This will be fun! I've never been to your house before, Rachel."

Santana rolled her eyes. "Sorry if we kept you waiting. Coach cornered us and bitched us out because Haley is leaving the school and now we're missing a flyer on the squad. As if it's _my_ fault her dad's company transferred them to California?"

"Oh," said Rachel, realizing with a smile that none of them had intended to ditch her. "Well, we're all here now, that's all that matters. Shall we head over to my house?"

"Sounds good," said Matt. "Mike's riding with me, but he knows the way, right?" Rachel nodded, while Santana raised an eyebrow at the tall Asian, who refused to meet her gaze.

"My dad dropped us off at school this morning, so we'll need a ride from one of you," said Brittany.

"You can ride with me," said Rachel. "Let's go!"

The five teens walked out to the school parking lot, chatting about their days. Rachel did her best to ignore the stares they received from the rest of the student body, knowing that they were still not used to seeing _her_ in the company of popular kids, however much they had grown accustomed to seeing the glee club socialize with cheerios and football players. Mike, however, seemed to sense her discomfort, and dropped his arm around her shoulders. "Don't worry about them, Rach," he said. "It doesn't matter what they think."

Santana, who had been engrossed in her conversation with Matt, looked around them at Mike's words. Her smile dropped off and a scowl took its place as she noticed everyone staring at the group in shock, her eyes narrowing. The change in the Latina's demeanour was palpable, and she smirked in satisfaction when a freshman who happened to be walking towards them took in her glare, squeaked and ran in the other direction.

"Was that really necessary, San?" chuckled Matt.

"About as necessary as it was for all of them to stare at us in the first place," she snorted unrepentantly.

Rachel shook her head, but couldn't help smiling a little at Santana's actions. The petite girl knew that the Latina hadn't been trying to defend her, exactly, but it was more than she would have done at the beginning of the school year. _Who am I kidding? At the beginning of the school year she wouldn't have been caught dead walking down the halls with me. _

Rachel clicked open her trunk with a push of the button on her car key as they neared her parking spot. "Well, this is me," she said as she lifted the trunk the rest of the way open. "You can put your bags in here if you want," she said to the two Cheerios as she dropped her own bag in.

"_This_ is your car?" asked Santana incredulously, staring at the sleek BMW. "Seriously?"

Mike grinned. "Sweet ride, right?"

Rachel rolled her eyes. "Yes, this is my car," she said as Santana tossed her backpack and gym bag into the trunk, Brittany doing the same. "And Mike, please do not encourage her. It's only a car."

"But it's so pretty!" exclaimed Brittany.

"Like I said, it's just a car. It was a present from my fathers."

Mike looked at her sharply as he recognized the touch of bitterness in her voice. _Sooner or later, we're going to have a conversation about this_, he vowed to himself before speaking up. "Well, in any case, Matt and I will see you guys at Rachel's," he said as the girls piled into the luxury sedan.

Rachel smiled up at him. "Will do," she said, before pulling her door shut and starting the engine. She looked over at Santana in the passenger seat and Brittany in the back. "Everyone buckled in?" When both girls nodded, she backed out of her spot and started driving home.

"Mind if I turn on the radio?" asked Santana.

"No, not at all," Rachel replied, even as Santana reached forward. "I should warn you though—" She was cut off as music blasted out of her speakers, and she laughed as she turned down the volume. "I apologize for that, I was listening to my music at rather high volume this morning on my way to school."

"So we heard," said Santana, amused. She paused for a moment, listening to the song that was playing. "Is this—"

"Oh!" squealed Brittany. "I love this song, turn it back up!"

Santana looked at Rachel in surprise for a moment before reaching forward to turn the volume back up a few notches. "Shakira? Colour me shocked."

"I do not know why everyone assumes that I listen to nothing but show tunes," Rachel huffed from the driver's seat. "Yes, I do want to perform on Broadway, but I fail to see how that is relevant to my personal taste in music on a day to day basis. I mean, honestly!"

"Wow. Chill," said Santana in amusement. "I didn't mean anything by it. Breathe, Berry."

Rachel took a deep breath. "I apologize, that was unwarranted. I am simply used to having to defend myself frequently."

Santana frowned slightly, but didn't say anything as the sultry sound of Shakira's La Tortura filled the car and Brittany began dancing in the backseat. Rachel smiled at her in the rearview mirror and began shimmying her shoulders, and Santana quickly joined in the fun, bobbing her head to the beat.

The song ended as Rachel turned onto her street, but by the time she pulled into her driveway she found herself laughing with the two Cheerios as they recounted a story from cheerleading practice that morning.

"I thought Coach Sylvester was going to have an aneurysm when Michelle forgot the steps to our new halftime routine! I swear, it looked like the vein in her neck was going to explode," smirked Santana.

"I do not know how you put up with that woman," said Rachel, shaking her head. "In any case, though, here we are." She stepped out of the car and popped the trunk open to retrieve her bag just as the boys pulled up. Matt and Mike got out of their car and sauntered over to the girls.

"Here, Rachel, let me take that," offered Matt, reaching for her bag. "Geez, what do you have in here, bricks?"

"No, just my notebooks and textbooks. I can carry it, you know."

"No no, it's no problem. My mom would have my head if she knew I wasn't being a perfect gentleman," he smiled.

"Oh. Well, thank you," she said as they walked up to the front door. She showed them to the family room once she unlocked the door and they were all inside. "Make yourselves comfortable. I need to go upstairs to change into dance clothes, I'll be back soon. If you want to change, there's a bathroom across from the kitchen. If you need anything else, Michael knows where everything is."

Santana quirked her brow at Rachel's last statement, but the brunette had already turned to go upstairs. "Exactly how much time do you spend here, Mike?"

He ignored the suggestive tone in her voice. "I've been over here a few times, that's all."

"Cool," chirped Brittany. "Her house is awesome! It's even bigger than yours, San."

"No kidding," said Matt as he looked around the large, tastefully decorated room. "I mean, I heard she had money, but this is unreal. This place is like a mansion!"

"I know, right? Here, check this out," Mike gestured, leading them to the adjoining game room.

"Damn," muttered Matt.

"Yeah. This is where we'll be hanging out when everyone comes over this weekend."

"Where's the dance studio?" asked Santana.

"Actually, I haven't seen it. She did say it was part of the pool house though, and I haven't been back there."

"I still can't believe she has her own dance studio," Matt said, shaking his head.

"It's so cool! I wish my parents would do that," said Brittany.

"Yeah, her dads are pretty awesome like that," stated Mike thoughtfully. "It seems like they get her anything she ever needs."

"It's true, they really do." They all turned to see Rachel in the doorway to the game room sporting black dance leggings and a purple top. "I know how lucky I am, they really would do anything for me."

"Like install a game room," Matt said enviously. "Huge flat screen, surround sound, game system, pool table—can I move in?"

"Michael said something very similar when he saw the game room," smiled Rachel.

"That's because this place is awesome!" defended Matt. "Seriously, think your dads would adopt me?"

Rachel laughed. "Come on, let's go get started on the choreography." She walked to the breakfast nook, where she ushered them out onto the patio.

"Whoa," murmured Santana, taking in the pool and hot tub. "Seriously Berry, your house is amazing."

"Thank you. As I mentioned earlier, the studio is in the pool house," said Rachel, motioning towards the separate building on the other side of the pool. She unlocked the door to the airy dance space, switching on the lights before stepping aside to let everyone into the spacious room.

"Wow, Rach," said Mike. "This is. . . wow." One wall of the room, to the right of the door, consisted of accordion glass doors overlooking the pool and backyard. The wall opposite the glass doors was paneled floor to ceiling with mirrors, with a portable barre resting on the hardwood floor in front of it.

"This is awesome Rachel!" squealed Brittany. The brunette smiled brightly as the cheerleader ran to the center of the room and executed a pirouette. "So much better than the auditorium! Your dads are so cool!"

"Glad you like it," she said somewhat shortly. "Now, shall we get to choreography?" she crossed to an iPod dock, picking up the device resting there and shuffling through it to find the song.

Mike couldn't help but notice once again how quickly she seemed to shy away from discussions of her fathers, and added this incident to what seemed to be a rapidly growing list of things he wanted to talk to her about. _I wonder what she really thinks about all this? _Still, he knew he should wait until they were alone to bring it up, so he allowed himself to get caught up in the familiar world of setting movement to music.

Two hours later they had blocked out most of the choreography for the number, though there were definitely still some rough sections. The group had retreated from the dance studio back to the main house where they lounged in the family room.

"So we're set, right?" Santana eyed everyone from her spot on the couch.

"I think so. We still need to sketch out a few details, but we have enough to show Schue tomorrow," said Mike.

"I am very pleased with our progress today," nodded Rachel.

"Cool," grinned Matt. "Gotta say, Rachel, that was probably the fastest we've put together the dancing for a song and had it look that good. Glad you're on board."

"Oh. Well, I'm sure it helped to have a private space where we were uninterrupted, and an extra person to see how it looks."

"Or it could help that you're an incredibly talented dancer." Mike nudged her with his shoulder from his place next to her, laughing when she flushed prettily. "Just take the compliment, Rach."

"Well, I am glad you asked me to participate and I was able to help," she mumbled.

"As amusing as it is to be at this meeting of the Rachel Berry fan club, I need to get home," snorted Santana. Her expression softened slightly when she saw Rachel drop her eyes to the ground. "Really though, great job today. Glad you agreed to help, Berry."

The petite girl looked up, biting her lip. "Thanks. And, please call me Rachel."

Santana laughed. "We'll work on that. Anyway, can you give me and Brit a ride? I really do need to get home."

"I can take you," said Matt, standing. "I should get home too. Coming man?"

"Actually I think I'm going to hang out for a while, I don't need to be home yet. Assuming it's okay with Rachel and she can give me a ride home later, that is?" He looked over to her, and she nodded.

"Okay, if you're sure."

Rachel stood, walking Matt and the two cheerleaders to the door. After they left, she returned to the family room, curling up on the couch. "Did you want to play some more 360?"

"Actually, I wanted to check on you. Are you doing okay?"

She sat up, puzzled. "I'm fine, Mike. Why?"

"You've just seemed. . . I dunno, sad. For the past few days." He looked at her carefully. "So I just wanted to see if you want to talk about it."

"I'm not—it's nothing. Please, don't worry about it."

"_Rachel_."

She met his gaze, sighing ruefully when she recognized he wasn't going to let it go. "Sometimes I get tired of being alone all the time, that's all."

"Alone?"

"Yes. I was raised to be goal-oriented and independent, but sometimes I wish things were different."

"What do you mean? Different how?" He furrowed his brow in concern, getting up from the loveseat to settle next to her on the sofa.

"I don't know. It would be nice to not be a complete outcast at school. I know I'll never be the most popular girl at McKinley, but I think having a few really good friends would make a big difference."

"You're not an outcast, Rach. You do have friends." He wrapped an arm around her shoulders, drawing her close in comfort. "Me, for one. And the rest of glee."

"That's not what I mean. It's not the same."

"Not the same as what?"

"As having _real_ friends. I know that none of you would ever have even spoken to me in the first place if not for glee."

"Rachel, listen to me. I have said it before, and I will _keep _saying it until you believe me. I know I can't speak for everyone else, but I really do mean it when I say this: I. Am. Your. Friend. And does it really matter how or why we got to know each other? All friendships have to start somewhere, for us it just happened to be glee club. And I know that Matt thinks of you as a friend, and probably Puck too."

"I suppose you are correct," she sighed, laying her head on his shoulder.

"So what's really bothering you? We've talked about the friend thing before, and it never got you _this_ down. Come on," he prodded her when she remained silent.

"It's my dads," she finally said quietly. "Don't get me wrong, I love them and I know they love me. I know I am incredibly lucky to have parents who never let me want for anything. I just—I miss them."

"I can't imagine what it's like to have them gone all the time. Do you know when they'll be back this time?"

"No. They said they would call to let me know, but if history is any indicator it won't be for at least another week."

"Really?"

"Yes. I—I wouldn't feel so bad, but they will likely be away for my birthday," she said softly.

"What?" He sat up abruptly, dislodging her from his shoulder. "What do you mean, your birthday? When is it?"

"Saturday."

"_This_ Saturday? Rachel!" he exclaimed when she nodded. "Why didn't you tell us?"

"Does it matter?"

"Of course it matters! It's your _birthday_, you should celebrate! Hey, now we can turn the get together into a birthday party, this is perfect! Everyone is already coming over anyway."

"I don't know. I don't want to bother anyone, and you are all coming here anyway. I fail to see why they need to know it happens to be my birthday," she said doubtfully.

_Oh,_ he thought. _That's what's going on here. She's afraid that no one will care that it's her birthday. _"Don't be ridiculous. It's not a bother to hang out with a friend on their birthday."

"I just—are you sure?"

"Of course. Look, you won't even need to do any extra work or anything, and I'll take care of telling everyone. I can't do anything about your dads, but I can make sure everyone in glee knows."

"Well. . . okay."

"Relax. It'll be fine," he reassured her gently. "Besides, no one should have to celebrate their birthday alone. Especially when they have a bunch of people coming over!"

She smiled faintly up at him. "Thank you."

"For what?"

"Caring enough to talk to me about this. I feel like you've been taking care of me all week."

"Someone has to," he quipped. "But really, no need to thank me, okay?"

"Well, regardless of need, I really do appreciate it. No one ever does anything like this for me."

He frowned as he realized, not for the first time, how lonely she must be. Wordlessly he gathered her into his arms for a hug. _Yes, she really must feel alone_, he thought sadly when she ducked her head against his chest, relishing the simple human contact. _Well, not for long. Not if I have anything to say about it._


End file.
